One Summer
by The Bog Witch
Summary: A certain animated demon ends up in the real world. How did he get there? And what does all this have to do with some mysterious demonic behavior back in the feudal era?
1. Morning People

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi et al. I'm not making any money from this.

* * *

Chapter One: Morning People 

Now, she loved him as much as the next girl, but she'd never actually wanted to meet him. It seemed like a good idea in _theory_, of course. Yet, even in the sugar-crazed throws of fangirlish worship, she'd always realized what a horrific train-wreck of an idea it was in practice.

Hey, this guy could _kill_ her. Brutally. Certainly not the best person to have asleep in one's bedroom. No, despite the fact that this was quite possibly every fangirl's dream, it was Not Good. (And yes, it deserves the capital letters, due to the sheer not-good-ness of the situation.)

She wasn't exactly sure how it happened. Technically, it shouldn't even be possible considering the fact that he wasn't real. At first, she had assumed that she was dreaming; you know, having one of those last-day-of-school-almost-summer-vacation delusions. Yeah. Because those were oh so very common.

So she'd rubbed her eyes and went to the bathroom, trying to forget about the unconscious figment of her imagination on the floor. However, as he was still there upon her return, she began to suspect that something was awry. And now, here she stood, still in her pajamas, gawking at the demon on her rug.

She must be insane.

She, Carol Johanson, had watched one too many episodes of Inu-Yasha and, as a result, had gone insane. Okay. She could deal with that. She shivered and shook herself to steady her nerves.

"Calm down, calm down," she said aloud. Crazy people talked to themselves right? Well, she always had, at least. Now that she thought about it, that might've been a sign.

"Obviously you have lost your mind. Maybe it was the four hour Inu-Yasha marathon at Cindy's last weekend that did it, or maybe it was last night's Inu-Yasha trivia quiz that set you over the edge … I don't know, I'm not a doctor, " here she gave a nervous giggle, "But what I do know, honey-pie, is that you are a sick girl. Very sick."

She climbed onto her bed muttering 'very sick, very sick' over and over again. Her alarm clock, precariously perched on the edge of her bedside table, read 6:03. A most ungodly hour to be awake, Carol had always felt, but at least tomorrow it would be summer vacation. She was somewhat comforted by this thought. Perhaps being crazy wasn't so bad, if one could still appreciate summer vacation.

She had about an hour and a half before she needed to leave for school. Casting a glance at the sleeping demon, she bit her lower lip and decided to pretend this wasn't happening, at least until she was dressed.

She threw on some jeans, fumbling the zipper a little in her haste, and then pulled a neatly pressed T-shirt over her head. Carol tended to be fussy and a bit obsessive in her organizational enterprises. She had once spent four hours re-organizing a sock drawer. Granted, it was a large drawer, but still …

She quickly brushed her hair, which she kept at about chin length for manageability. She was always amazed by people with super-long hair. It must take a lot of upkeep. Carol glanced at the long-haired demon; she couldn't bring herself to even think his name. Not just yet. She feared that she would have a mental breakdown.

Carol set the brush down on her dresser, exactly parallel to her seldom used comb. She stared at the demon once more and had to sit down on her bed again. It was just too much.

Steeling her nerves, she got up and slowly approached him. It occurred to her that, had this not been happening to her, it would've been funny.

She bent down and touched his face. Well, this was one convincing hallucination! Solid. Could you feel hallucinations? She wasn't sure and, to be honest, really didn't want to find out.

He stirred and she jumped back in shock. She knew she needn't be afraid of her own hallucination. This could not be who she thought it was. No way. Not a snowball's chance in the Sahara. But ...just in case…she felt it was best not to wake him. If it's possible to wake a hallucination, of course.

Suddenly his eyes shot open. To her embarrassment, Carol yelped. She was up and over her bed in a matter of seconds. An Olympic hurdle-jumper would've been put to shame.

He stood up, towering over her.

"You, wench!"

_Not good! Not good!_ Carol's mind screamed.

"What am I doing _here_?" He was obviously not in his happy place.

Well crap. She always knew that he wasn't much of a morning person.


	2. Reality TV

Just as a side-note, I will freely admit that I have no idea what I'm doing and that this little message is pointless _and_ incoherant.At the same time.(Score 2 for me!)

Chapter 2: Reality TV

"Uh …" _Say something!_ She thought. _Say something that's _not_ 'don't kill me'!_ "I … don't know." Okay. Marginally better.

He stared.

"But … er … don't panic now!" she said. For the record, he showed no signs of panicking. "I'm sure the answer will come…eventually." She smoothed her jeans.

More staring.

"You just sort of showed up … erm … What's the last thing you remember?" Good. That seemed helpful.

"A light." He said, at a length.

"Okaayy …" How very cliché! Maybe she was dreaming? No. It didn't feel like a dream at all. Everything was too crisp, too clear. Plus, she had a feeling that if her subconscious was going to make up little scenarios involving Sesshoumaru and her bedroom, it would be a bit more creative.

What to do now? He didn't seem to be going away. What would she tell her mother? Carol had always felt that her mother was rather reasonable, as far as parents go, but somehow she didn't think that she'd take kindly to the idea of an odd, freakishly attractive man in her daughter's bedroom.

She'd have to find some way to hide him—wait! What was she thinking? This was obviously a delusion. How could a _fictional character_ be in her bedroom? He couldn't be; that was the answer. So, therefore, her mother could not object to someone who wasn't there. No need to get upset then. She rubbed her eyes, hoping he would disappear.

Her heart practically sank into her socks when she opened her eyes again. She never thought that she'd be sorry to see Sesshoumaru.

"This isn't happening," she muttered, holding her head in her hands, "Not happening, not happening, you're not real."

"I assure you, I am very real, human." He stepped closer.

"No… you don't understand…" suddenly, an idea struck her. She ran to her closet. "Hold on, I'll show you!" Yes! Third tape from the bottom, just where she always put it. This would certainly dispel her crazy hallucination.

"It's not that you aren't a nice figment of my imagination," she said, feeling better, "But … this whole 'insanity' thing doesn't suit me at all. "

She walked over to a small table, adjacent to her closet and directly across from her bed. The old TV sat stodgily at exactly the center of the table. Carol always prided herself on keeping it free of dust and tended to spend an unnatural amount of time cleaning it. But hey, what's a few hours here and there? She imagined that the old thing might be worth something, in a few years, considering the fact that DVD players were getting more and more popular. Someday, she might have an antique on her hands.

She turned on the TV and popped the tape into the VCR. This should cure her of that crazy hallucination!

Said hallucination was now standing behind her, trying not to appear curious.

As the familiar images appeared on the screen, he gasped.

"What sorcery is this?" he tapped the TV cautiously, as if he was afraid that it would explode.

"That, my dear imaginary-Sesshoumaru, is Inu-Yasha, the show that likely caused my swift and shocking descent into madness," she giggled. Inu-Yasha always made her feel better, and soon the hallucination would be gone. However, she decided that it might be wise to cut back on the show in the future. Sesshoumaru was awesome, but insanity was not.

"How have you trapped my mangy half-brother in that box?"

"Um … it's kind of hard to explain but it's not—oh there it is!" Sesshoumaru's eyes almost fell out of his head when he saw himself on the TV.

Carol sighed in relief. There he was, right on the TV. TV show equals not real. More importantly, TV show equals not in her bedroom.

She knew this. She must've just needed a little reminder. Thank goodness she made those tapes!

He would not be there when she turned around, she felt sure. She would tell Cindy all about this later, and they'd laugh and laugh …

She stopped the tape and shut off the TV. She practically whistled as she returned the tape to its proper place in her closet.

She turned to leave her room.

He was still standing there.

It was hard to tell which one of them looked more shocked.


	3. Don't Try, It's 'Feudal'

Chapter 3: Don't Try, It's 'Feudal'

"Inu-Yasha!" she yelled, still running. They had gotten separated sometime after the third youkai attack that evening. At least, she thought it was the third--it was hard to tell, what with all the screaming. Plus, she wasn't sure whether to count the stool incident as a youkai attack …

It was not Kagome's day. She was quite certain that she failed her math test, and it was a make-up test to begin with. There'd be a heat wave in Antarctica before she'd be able to swing another re-take. So, upon returning to the feudal era, she'd hoped for a reasonably stress-free afternoon. Because time in the feudal era was always so relaxing. Yeah. It was a regular health spa over there.

Today had been unusually chaotic. She'd barely had time to climb out of the well before some gigantic foaming-at-the-mouth _purple_ monster wearing little more than a severely neglected loincloth had kidnapped her, presumably for sustenance. She'd been dragged back to its unkempt Fortress of Unspeakable Doom, tied up, stuffed in a broom closet, of all places, and left in the dark for two hours or so until Inu-Yasha came to kill it. Same old, same old…or so she thought.

They'd gone back to the village and had found Sango and Miroku cleaning up what looked to be entrails. Apparently a few more demons had attacked the village while Kagome was off on her magical broom closet adventure. (A smelly mop had poked her in the ribs for the better part of an hour. She would miss that mop. In the short amount of time that they had spent together, she felt that they had formed a deep emotional bond.) Shippo was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, where's Shippo?" Kagome had asked, not knowing the horror that was yet to come.

"Hmm…I haven't seen him for a while," said Miroku.

Suddenly a scream pierced the air. And, like fools, Kagome remembered, like foolish fool-hearted fool-ridden fools, they had all ran to see what was the matter.

The scream had come from inside of Kaede's hut and what they saw therein was both disturbing and bizarre. Kagome knew that she would never feel quite the same about stools again; none of them would. Poor Shippo. Just thinking about the way the stool had…

Ugh.

It was so horrible that Kagome started to hum a little song to drown out the memory. It was the Smelly Uncle Bud's Olde Style All Purpose Cleaning Solution theme song, and it was remarkably catchy.

"If you don't want your bathtub to be filled with crud, go to the store and buy some Smelly Uncle Bud!" sang Kagome. Okay, so the lyrics weren't so great, but damn was that a catchy tune!

Unfortunately, she still had no idea where Inu-Yasha was and the song seemed to enrage the troop of beetle youkai that were chasing her.

She didn't know what they had against Smelly Uncle Bud's Olde Style All Purpose Cleaning Solution, but she felt that now was not the time to ask. (Say, was that green stuff coming out of their mouths poisonous?) She darted between the trees, hoping to loose them in the thick undergrowth of the forest.

"Inu-Yasha!" She was cold and tired and now all she could do was hum that stupid song! It was one of those songs that, like a parasite, attaches itself to the spinal cord and sucks the sweet life-giving nutrients from the brain.

She tried to hum another song to get it out of her head.

"Row row row your boat gently down the filled with crud go to the store and—oh." Nope. Not helping. The demons were catching up, as if the song wasn't enough.

Kagome cried out in frustration. She was going to die and all she could think about was 'if you don't want your bathtub to be filled with crud…" a statement of questionable quality to say the least.

The beetle demons were closing in, clawing at her with their spooky bug-appendages.

Kagome screamed. Oh how she wished she were back in the closet with the mop!

And that was about when the zombies arrived.


	4. Leprechaun Free

Chapter 4: Leprechaun-free

Well, she couldn't very well slap a skirt on him, bring him to school and tell everyone that he was "Shannon O'Maru", an exchange student from western Ireland. That much was obvious.

It was also obvious that, Inu-Yasha induced hallucination or not, he wasn't going away anytime soon. Might as well plan accordingly.

"Alright," she squeaked, "Alright, it is clear that there's something very strange going on here, _very _strange. Now, I may, in fact, be insane. But ignoring that ... I don't know what brought you here, and I assume you don't either?'

He nodded impassively.

"Right. Now that we've got that established, we've got to figure out some way to…send you back home, I guess." He seemed pleased with the idea, though it was difficult to tell, him being Sesshoumaru and all. Privately, Carol felt that someone was going to send her to _the_ home, once the news of her insanity broke out.

"I have to go to school soon…and I really can't think of any way to take you with me, barring a sudden outbreak of mass hysteria … so … do you think you could stay here for a couple of hours?" Thank goodness her parents worked during the day. "You could ... watch TV!"

He gave this some thought. On one hand, he did not wish to take orders from a human girl, but on the other, it would be interesting to learn more about this 'teevee'. Though Sesshoumaru would be appalled to know it, he arrived at a very human conclusion.

The TV won out.

"That would be acceptable," he said, "for the time being."

"Great! Now, here's the remote—that's what you use to control it—just press this button here, see? And, I'll be back in a few hours, really! Don't go anywhere, 'kay? Just for now? Good … and see—we don't really have demons here, so don't let anyone see you. It'd cause them all sorts of stress and—yeah, I know you could take 'em, don't want to bother with stupid humans and all that jazz, but it'll be much _much_ easier to send you home if we don't have mass panic…can't get anything done that way, eh?" She laughed nervously, "Yeah, so stay in my room, and I'll be back, then we'll …figure something out … stay here! Did I say that already? Heh …oh well, bye!"

She rushed from the room, leaving a bewildered Sesshoumaru behind her.

_Oh god oh god oh god_! She thought as she bounded down the stairs. _What am I going to do? _

She grabbed her backpack, waved to her mother and ran to catch the bus.

It turned out to be the longest school day of her life. She couldn't stop thinking about Sesshoumaru. Would he stay in her room? Would her mother, for some freakish reason, decide to stay home? Would she find him? Gaa! The suspense!

And how did she expect to send him home? She wasn't a magician! God, he was going to kill her and—

Buzz!

Carol shrieked and fell out of her chair. Scattered laughter. Great. The huddled masses found her pain amusing. She hurried out of the room, eager to return home.

Making her way through the hallway was a headache on wheels, even under normal circumstances. Her school consisted mostly of ordinary people who, for some reason beyond her understanding, mutated into slow-moving, semi-conscious zombies upon entering the hallway. Though she couldn't be sure, she believed that some of them may hunger for brains.

Carol was shuffling as fast as she could, lost in thought.

"Hiya!" Someone tapped Carol's shoulder.

"Argg!" screamed Carol, "Oh! Hi, Cindy!" She should've known by the noise. Cindy was one of those people who wore so many knick-knacks that she jingled as she walked. (She also left little piles of glitter everywhere she sat. She said it was to confuse the seat-gremlins. This, of course, is entirely irrelevant.)

"Say, you sure are on edge today. What's up? "Here Cindy's voice dropped, "Have the leprechauns finally shown themselves? Wait!" Cindy lunged and slammed Carol into the lockers. "Quickly! Shh!" Cindy was Carol's best friend.

She was also insane.

This, of course, is irrelevant as well. (Not to mention obvious.)

She dragged the shell-shocked girl into the bathroom, uninhabited due to a strange and horrible incident involving sub-par cleaning solution and a nasty rash in an unpleasant area. Apparently the unfortunate girl's family was suing the school over it. (The girl in question could no longer show her face in polite society.) After what had happened to her, no one was willing to use _those_ toilets.

"Now about the leprechauns…" whispered Cindy

"No! No leprechauns, Cindy. Really! Just a little excited about the summer … Leprechaun-free zone here! Heh..."

"Oh," said Cindy, disappointed, "Well, remember…_be ever vigilant! _THeY WaLk AmOnG Us!" Her eyes darted anxiously. Suddenly, she straightened, shook Carol's hand and saluted, clicking her heels. Carol saluted back, albeit half-heartedly.

Cindy grinned.

"See you tomorrow! Bye!" And with that, she left, jingling all the way.

Well, at least she wasn't as crazy as Cindy. That was a blessing.

Carol arrived home in a timely matter. Her parents wouldn't be back for a good few hours.

Sesshoumaru was nowhere in sight.

She made her way upstairs, to her room. Oh! He'd left hadn't he? Rounding the corner, she stopped short. Paused. Her hand hovered above the doorknob.

Bracing herself, she slowly opened the door.

Her eyes widened in horror. Sweet jeebus whistling on an angry jackhammer!

"How could—what did? Oh!" She couldn't find words to describe the sheer intensity of her shock.

And, for the first time in her life, Carol fainted.


	5. Zombies

No, I'm not bashing Kikyou … I swear there's a semi-logical, plot orientated explanation for this madness. It's all part of the Plan!

Chapter 5: Zombies

"To me, my zombie-brethren!" Funny. That voice was familiar.

No way! That could not be … and yet it was!

Rising above the horde of zombies, hair streaming, eyes ablaze was Kikyou.

Kagome stood slack-jawed as the beetle demons were mercilessly slaughtered by the zombies. Bug-bits went flying everywhere, landing haphazardly on trees and leaving sticky puddles on the ground. Kagome was splattered with a thick, puke-brown substance. Well, that was certainly going to leave a stain. Maybe she could use some of that Smelly Uncle Bud's Olde Style—no! Kagome jammed her thumbs in her ears and started whistling 'The Song that Never Ends'

"Must not succumb to power of Uncle Bud. Must resist corporate brainwashing." She muttered, shortly after 'The Song that Never Ends' became too aggravating.

After the deed was done, Kikyou yelled:

"Today we feast!" And the zombies fell upon the beetle corpses, presumably to devour them. For sustenance. Yes. However, as soon as the yellowy zombie-teeth sank into their slick beetley-flesh, a change occurred in the corpses. A putrid, lemony-fresh smell filled the air.

The beetles rose from the ground, an eerie light behind their eyes, and joined the zombie horde. They formed a kick line and began to sing 'Lydia the Tattooed Lady'. This was followed up by a hasty rendition of 'Mr. Bojangles', with Kikyou accompanying them on a battered banjo. The whole troop then rushed shrieking into the night, leaving Kagome to stare at the spot where they had once been in amazement.

You don't see that every day.

Kagome sank to her knees, still staring. Were there even banjos in the Feudal era? Kagome was aghast at this sickening anachronism. (Also, one of the zombies was flat during the opening of 'Mr. Bojangles', and, as everyone knows, that's the best part.)

"Kagome!"

She blinked.

"Hello? Kagome!" Inu-Yasha shook her.

"Inu-Yasha! The banjo! The zombies!" Her fingers had his haori in a death-grip. "The zombies!"

"What are you talking about?" He was unusually concerned.

"Kikyou! She was here … "

"She was? What happened!"

"Zombies! A whole horde of zombies!"

"Let me get this straight, Kikyou _and a horde of zombies_ just came by here?"

Kagome nodded.

Just then, Miroku, Sango and Shippo showed up, riding on Kirara. They were covered in grayish lumps of questionable origins.

"Kagome, Inu-Yasha!" said Sango, "Zombies!"

"You too?" said Kagome.

"Yes." Miroku this time.

"Wait a minute … you were all attacked by Kikyou and a horde of zombies?"

"No … that's the strange thing, "said Miroku, attempting to wipe the lumps from his face and failing miserably, "we were attacked by some cockroach demons. We saw Kikyou and her … er … zombie-horde, but the zombies just ate the demons—"

"And then the demons turned into zombies, they all performed a few musical numbers and then they left?" said Kagome

"Yes, exactly!" said Miroku.

"And Kikyou was playing the banjo?"

"Ban-jo?" said Miroku, trying the word out.

"Banjo?" said Inu-Yasha, utterly confused.

"I wonder why they didn't attack us," mused Sango.

"I, "grumbled Inu-Yasha, "wonder why Kikyou is hanging out with a bunch of zombies."

"Well … she is sort of--" began Miroku, but Sango silenced him with the Glare of Death. (The Jab in the Ribs of Serious Injury didn't hurt either. Well, technically it did. But that was the point.)

"She's sort of what?" asked Inu-Yasha.

"Er … nothing … nothing at all …"

Inu-Yasha eyed him suspiciously.

"Say, what's that noise?" said Sango. As everyone knows, no good comes of a sentence like this. When you read a sentence like this, you know something bad is going to happen. When you _hear_ a sentence like this, you _really_ know something bad is going to happen; and what's more, you should probably just start running and flailing your arms right then. It'll save time.

Now, Kagome knew this. Sango knew this. Miroku knew this. Shippo definitely knew this, considering the stool incident. Apparently, however, Inu-Yasha did not know this. But he would learn. Oh how he would learn!

"Huh … let's go see then," he said, so innocent, so trusting! He didn't know, remember. He trundled over to the source of the noise: a large bush. It was an evil bush, incidentally, it thought evil thoughts, dreamt evil dreams, and, on occasion, tripped the unsuspecting passerby. But this has no bearing on our plot whatsoever. It's good to know, though. Just for future reference. Anyway, odd, tinkling noises were emanating from within the dark recesses of the sinister shrubbery. Who knew what lurked behind the cover of the fickle foliage? Who knew what dark thing slunk between the bitter branches, what took refuge in its unctuous umbrage? Not Inu-Yasha.

And he aimed to find out.


	6. Suddenly Sesshoumaru

Disclaimer: The rights of all recognizable TV shows mentioned within are property of their respective owners. No money was made or will be made from this endeavor.

Ramblings: Well, this is turning out to have a lot more _plot _than I'd originally intended. And it's got far more serious bits. Hope they're still amusing though. Or at least, I hope they're bad enough to provide some cheap entertainment. Nothing's worse than mediocrity, that's what I always say. If I screw anything up, feel free to point and laugh er … point it out, I mean. And yeah, I'm kinda' slow in updating, I know… but this is sort of what I do when I really should be doing something else. Something more productive. Like multiplication. (Lots of products there) Or eating. (Again, some interesting by-products. No, I can't believe that I just went there, either) Yes. I'll stop with the puns now. I think we've all heard enough out of me. And now I'm just wasting everybody's time blah blah blah blah on with the fic.

* * *

Chapter 6: Suddenly Sesshoumaru

It had been a long, confusing day for Sesshoumaru, though, like an ageing Elvis impersonator, it was not without its charms. It had begun amicably enough. He had woken up, scolded Jaken, excepted several decidedly ugly flowers from Rin, wandered about, accepted several more ugly flowers from Rin (these were even uglier than the first batch, come to think of it), gotten his fluffy cleaned, bonked Jaken again, fed Ah-Un, more flowers from Rin (she was beginning to get frightening, with those flowers, he mused darkly) and around noon, after still more flowers had been shoved into his by that time quite unwilling hands, he had seen a bright, white light and found himself transported to a strange world.

Odd really. He wondered what would become of Rin, and yes, Jaken, without him. At least he wouldn't have to hold any more flowers for a while. Wait a minute… she'd been giving him a lot more flowers than usual lately, hadn't she? Did he just list, what -- three times in one day? She'd been partial to a certain, ugly sort of flower too. They had large, swollen petals, resplendent in migraine-inducing pink and purple. He'd never seen flowers like those before, now that he thought of it. Not before a few days ago anyhow.

All the more reason to get back as soon as possible. This new world smelled…acidic almost. The word 'sterile' came to mind; perhaps it was some strong cleaning agent? Soaps were usually not so abrasive, at least where he came from.

Still, the witch (for he was certain that she must be a witch) had a whole manner of interesting things, so at least he was not bored. The 'teevee' had proved most irksome. At first, he believed that it was some sort of prison. The witch seemed to deny this, however, and when he saw his own image therein, he knew that it couldn't be a prison. _He_ was not trapped. The idea was laughable, really, that a feeble mortal girl, witch or no, could trap this Sesshoumaru. And yet … he was stuck in this world. Perhaps this 'teevee' was actually what brought him here. Had the witch indeed captured him? He dismissed the idea at once. He could smell the fear on the girl … she clearly could not be powerful enough to harm him.

He had studied his brother on the teevee, and found that he could make the scenes go forward and backward by pressing small, square button on the 'remote'. _Perhaps_, he had thought, _this teevee is some sort of time travel device_. As he watched, he found that there were some events, some battles he recognized. Here was when the hated Inu-Yasha had relieved him of his arm! And there was when he had revived Rin! It made him feel violated, somehow, to think that people were watching his most shameful and private moments, listening to his innermost thoughts just as he thought them. (He knew, in the back of his mind, that he would never be able to take a bath in peace again.)

But then, there were also many things he did not recognize. Were these events yet to come? Was he, Sesshoumaru, looking upon his own future?

The thought made him grow cold.

While turning this idea over in his mind, he found that he had inadvertently clicked another button on the remote. The images on the teevee stopped and a small door opened, spitting out a black rectangle.

And yet, Sesshoumaru was in for the shock of his life. The teevee blared and new, brightly colored pictures snapped to life. These pictures looked different from those that came before; they seemed more real, whereas the others had looked more like drawings.

"It's time for WHEEL OF FORTUNE!" The voices yelled.

Sesshoumaru jumped back, nearly hitting a boxy, wooden structure, laden with pillows. He crouched in a fighting stance, drawing toukijin. The remote dropped to the ground.

He waited there, a few moments, watching the bright lights flare and the humans squeal. These were strange humans, though; they had no scent.

After a moment's length, he withdrew his sword. He cautiously approached the teevee, leaned in, and took a long whiff. Zip! His nose gently collided with the screen.

Ouch! He felt a sharp sting. This, of course, was no match for the great Sesshoumaru; no sting could fell him! He again drew his sword, fully prepared to engage the teevee in battle, when suddenly he stepped on the remote. The teevee whirred and the picture flipped again.

"And here we have a lovely diamond necklace, doubtlessly created through the magic of slave-labor somewhere in the back alleys of—"

Two absurdly happy women were showing off jewelry. Their smiles were like stars, but only in that both subjects are made of gaseous materials and quite probably thousands of years old.

Sesshoumaru toyed with the remote for a while longer, and then opted to explore the rest of the room.

The boxy, pillow-laden structure was the first to fall under the curious eye of the white-haired demon. It didn't even know what hit it. The pillows were doomed to start with. The blankets didn't stand a chance.

Within seconds, pillows were flying through the air, soon to be joined by the large, squishy mat, which, as far as Sesshoumaru was concerned, was just a giant, flat pillow anyway. The blankets lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, poor dears. He had lost interest in them quickly.

He bounced on the mat a few times before moving on to the drawers. The chest was located off to the corner of the room, not far from the nightstand. It was a modest chest, simple, wooden. The decimation was swift here.

It seemed to contain clothing, of some sort, all neatly folded. Sesshoumaru examined each item carefully, throwing it over his shoulder when he was done. There were cotton things, mostly. Some items appeared to be lace or satin. He found a few skin colored items whose purpose eluded him. They each consisted of twin concave circles with straps attached to the sides. Some kind of hat perhaps? Hmmm … Yes. That seemed about right. Sesshoumaru put one on his head, fastening the straps beneath his chin. They were difficult to affix, the little devils, but he got them. Sesshoumaru was nothing if not perseverant.

Next was the closet. More clothes, knick-knacks and flat black rectangles, like the one the girl had fed to the teevee. They must be a food-source of some type. Was the teevee a living creature? Well, the witch-girl had said that the remote controls it …

Sesshoumaru dove for the remote. It took him a good long time, but he located it beneath the ever-growing pile of curiosities he had found. He gripped it tightly. From then on, he kept it at arm's reach. If this teevee was alive, then this Sesshoumaru would certainly wish to control it. It was obviously very powerful.

So, this was the way in which Sesshoumaru spent the day. Finally, at a few hours past midday, he heard the door open.

The girl stood in the middle of the room. She looked around. Her eyes widened, then rolled back in her head as she dropped to the ground.

He stood over her for five or six minutes, unsure of what to do. Eventually, he knelt down and nudged her slightly.

"Ahh … oh … the filth, "she muttered. Her eyes opened slowly. "The filth!" she said again.

The girl sat up. She blinked. A mad gleam had come into her eyes. For the first time in a long time Sesshoumaru started to feel … not exactly afraid, but unsettled, disturbed even. She cackled. Yes. Definitely disturbed.

"Ohhh … you know what we have to do now?" she asked, in a voice that was not quite stable. Her eyes were bloodshot.

Sesshoumaru wisely remained silent.

She grinned a grinny grin that stretched from her earlobes all the way down to her bellybutton.

"Heh-heh." She rubbed her hands together in fiendish glee. Suddenly, Sesshoumaru felt that something bad was about to happen. Something hideously bad. Little did Sesshoumaru know the horrors that were yet to come. (Which sort of stands to reason … they haven't come yet. Hence the name.)

"To the bathroom!" She grabbed his arm and Sesshoumaru, too shocked to protest, was dragged out of the room, into parts unknown.

Very unknown, as it would turn out.


	7. Equally Incompetent

Disclaimer: All brand names, stores, and angry water chestnuts in the following belong exclusively to their respective owners. No profit was made or will be made from this. No water chestnuts were killed in the making of this 'fic, though several were maimed beyond recognition. Flowers were begrudgingly sent to their families as tokens of sympathy (and, more importantly, in lieu of worker's compensation.)

Chapter 7: Equally Incompetent

In one unpredictably anticlimactic gesture, Inu-Yasha parted the evil bush and came face to face with destiny.

Destiny, as it turned out, was a frumpy, jittery little man. His hair was tied into four pigtails which branched off from his skull, rather in the way that an untalented actor branches off and pursues an equally incompetent singing career, only with fewer law suits and drug busts. To each pigtail was affixed a small silver bell. He was bent over a small bottle, deep in concentration. A medium sized cactus in a terra cotta pot sat by his side.

"Bwuh?" said Inu-Yasha. Unsurprisingly, this is often the response one has after coming face to face with destiny.

"Aiieee!" yelled the man. He leapt to his feat, smacked Inu-Yasha with the bottle and then promptly sat back down.

"Hey! What was that for, old man!" Inu-Yasha rolled up his sleeves, preparing to mete out his own smart-mouthed hanyou brand of justice on the old man's unsuspecting noggin.

"Inu-Yasha!" Kagome warned.

"It's an evil bush," said the man, apologetically.

Blank stares all around.

"Pardon us," said Miroku, "but what are you doing here?"

"And what are those bells for?" asked Kagome.

"Ah-ha!" The man said grandly, "These are to scare away the leprechauns!"

"Okayyy" _The man is clearly nuts_ thought Kagome

_The wheel is turning, but the hamster's dead _thought Miroku

_He's not playing with a full deck _thought Sango

_The lights are on but nobody's home _thought Shippo, between the harsh, uncultured cries of mental anguish that reamed through his skull like a discount cheese wheel salesman on happy pills. Curse you stool! Curse you!

_The…shit I'm out of euphemisms! Why does this always happen to me?_ thought poor, slighted Inu-Yasha. Why did he _always_ get the crap end of this pony ride? Wait … what? Gaa! It's happening again! Damn!

"I," continued the man "am concocting a potion to get rid of the zombies."

"So you've seen them, too?" asked Kagome.

"They're not even brain eating zombies! Still gotta put 'em down, though. Ho-ho, these crazy modern zombies and their banjos! Nothing like that back in the day, you know. Back when I was a boy…"

"Hold on," Miroku intervened, seeing that the conversation was taking a long boring turn for memory lane (In case anyone is wondering, this is located just past the Dairy Queen, across the street from 'Big Bill's Bidet Emporium'.) "Is that plant there part of your potion? I've never seen anything like it." He pointed to the cactus.

"A cactus?" said Kagome.

"Yes." said the man, "her name is Agnes."

"But …" said Sango, confused," why is it wearing that hat?"

"Oh … well," here he blushed deeply, "it's apparently very fashionable … "

The hat was a bright fuchsia crushed velvet bowler, if there ever was such a thing. Several large, ugly flowers were tucked in its formidable brim. One even had a tacky plastic bee glued onto its petals.

_Plastic?_ _Another anachronism …_thought Kagome. _Strange._ Though, it must be said, not quite as strange as Kikyou and the banjo.

"So how do you plan on stopping the zombies? With that bottle?" asked Miroku.

"Yes."

"What's in it?"

"So far, an acorn, three twigs and some green stuff that I found on the ground."

"And that will stop the zombies?"

"Couldn't hurt," he shrugged.

"Oh … yes…heh" Miroku leaned back and whispered to Sango. "Er…He's not all there, then … maybe we should leave?"

"Wait, let's see if he knows anything more about the zombies" whispered Sango.

"Oh yes … good thinking," said he, somewhat distractedly. Miroku, after all, was a monk with things to do. Big important things.

"And one more thing …" One of those things that Miroku had to do was happening too close to Sango again.

"Hmm? " Miroku tilted his head innocently.

WHACK!

"Hands off, monk," Sango grumped over to Kagome.

"Please!" begged Miroku, "I am but a humble monk!" With so many things to do … yes. So many things.

"So about these zombies, old man—" Inu-Yasha started.

"Wait!" The man held a finger to his lips. "Not here." He scooped up Agnes, hat and all, and pocketed the bottle.

He beckoned for them to follow him. Sadly, instead of screaming and running away like sensible folk, they tagged along.

They followed the strange man up a hill and down a small river. They walked and walked and walked. In reality, this Odyssey, the mighty Trek of the Noble Heroes only lasted about seventeen minutes. (Which, as opposed to seventeen years, was pretty good.)

At last they reached a small mushroom at the base of a large hill. The man tapped on it twice, the hill creaked, and a door swung open. A set of wooden steps was revealed.

"Uh…" said Kagome. Alright, _now_ this was getting strange.

"I found this place around the time Agnes came to me. It seemed a good location to set up my anti-zombie rebel base!"

"Wait … just how long ago was that?" asked Miroku.

"About three hours ago … but I've spent my life studying the zombie way! Why, when I was a boy, you got real zombies, those were the days my, my…"

"So … you just found Agnes?" said Kagome. Odd. Cacti were, as far as she knew, not native to Japan.

"Yep, pot and all. Then she showed me this place and I moved all my zombie-hunting stuff here. Then I saw those zombies. Their leader had a strange instrument … said it was a 'banjo'."

Sweet Lord. It _was_ a banjo. What's going on here? Kagome shuddered.

She gazed down the steps. They definitely wouldn't pass safety inspection. Rickety and worm eaten, the steps were a formidable foe indeed. And what could they lead to? This man … he talked to a cactus … that's not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

"Well c'mon! You crazy kids and your fear of clearly dangerous staircases… Man-alive! Back in the day, we didn't even have staircases, just big ol'—"

Boom!

Some sort of explosion went off in the depths of the hill. A flaming ball of fire shot from the hill, singing Miroku's eyebrows as it went. Extinguishing a small ember resting on his clothes with his thumb, Miroku stared in shock at the pitiful remains of the staircase.

"Aw, phooey! Now we'll have to rappel down from the hole!" The man pulled out a long rope attached to a grappling hook. Horrifyingly, he pulled it from his pants.

"C'mon!" he said.

"I am not touching that rope." said Inu-Yasha with such conviction that no one dared argue with him. Not that they wanted to. Pants-rope was really not their thing.

"Fire just shot out of there!" exclaimed Miroku, still dazed. "Fire!"

"I am not touching that rope!" Inu-Yasha again. He was preaching to the choir.

"Fire!" said Miroku.

"No pants-rope!"

"Shippo, my eyes!" yelled Kagome. The poor fox demon had realized that he could just make out the outline of a stool down that hole. As if the ball of fire wasn't enough. He had rushed to Kagome for protection. Unfortunately, in his excitement, he'd jumped onto her head.

Sango tried to pull him off while Miroku kept pointing to the hole in shock.

"Did you see that?" said he.

"I tell you, old man, I'm not touching that rope!"

"My eyes!"

"Calm down Shippo! It's okay!"

"C'mon!

Just as the chaos came to a head, the ground began to shake.

"Huh?" said Inu-Yasha.

"Bbbadd ssighn!" said a very jiggly Miroku.

Then the earth was rent in two and they all tumbled down into the darkness.


	8. Three's Company, Too

Disclaimer: Three's Company does not belong to me. Trust me; this will all make more sense when you read the chapter.

Chapter 8: Three's Company, Too

The bathroom was truly an evil place, Sesshoumaru had decided. He had attempted to drink a colorful, pleasant smelling substance that he'd found beneath the 'sink'. This did not go over very well with the girl. In fact, after a few seconds, it did not go over very well with Sesshoumaru.

After spitting out the offending substance (the girl practically held him over the sink in panic), he was offered a thin hot pink stick with bristles on the end, to 'clear out the taste'. At this point he was willing to try anything.

"Now, let's see," the girl took out a white tube, "this ought to do it" she said, squirting it liberally onto the bristles. "You just sort of swish it around over your teeth."

Sesshoumaru did as he was bid and immediately regretted it. Ye gods, his _eyeballs_ were burning! This stuff could take the skin off of a rock. For it was true that Carol used a certain highly abrasive brand of toothpaste. It burned like forking over eight dollars for a latte, but it did have extra whitening strength.

"Rinse, man! Rinse before it's too late!" Carol screamed, shoving a paper cup into his hands. Oh it wasn't meant to be in the mouth for this long. Even if he was a demon, no creature on earth could survive Molgate Extra Whitening for more than 30 seconds. The pain would just be too much.

Sesshoumaru spat furiously into the sink, cursing the very idea of this 'extra whitening power', whatever that was.

"Okay…that didn't go over so well…the Molgate is a force to be reckoned with, isn't it? Let's just get what we came for and go,"

Sesshoumaru had no complaints there. He wanted to leave this wretched place as soon as possible.

The girl reached under the sink and pulled out an industrial sized bottle. It was the very best there was. She sighed happily, content with the knowledge that Malodorous Uncle Spud's Multipurpose High Strength Cleaning Solution would kill all germs. Kill them dead. (Incidentally, this cleansing agent is also known to bump off birds, house pets and the occasional small child. Just one whiff of the stuff could burn all of the hair from the nostrils. One of its key ingredients, in case anyone is wondering, was Molgate Extra Whitening toothpaste.)

"Help me open the windows?" She asked, as they arrived in her room, "Yes, that latch there…yeah, they had to put a warning on the bottle to open the windows after all those people died…"

Cleaning, as previously stated, was one of Carol's all-time favorite pastimes. She was like a hurricane, ruthless and capable of sweeping up everything in her path. It didn't take more than an hour, so finely tuned were Carol's cleaning skills.

"That's more like it, "She said, upon completion. Then she took a close look at Sesshoumaru for the first time since she'd gotten home. "Hey … can I ask you a question?"

He nodded.

"Why are you wearing my bra on your head?"

After a long, interesting conversation wherein it was explained to Sesshoumaru that, no, it wasn't a hat, and yes, he ought to take it off because it looked ridiculous, among other things, Carol led him to the guest bedroom.

"You can stay here for the night…but…don't leave okay? We've got to try and keep my parents from figuring out you're here. Remember that mass hysteria thing from before? Yeah … it'll be like that."

As she walked to her room, she wrung her hands in exasperation. Oh! What was she going to do? There was no way, no way on Earth that she could pull this off. This sort of thing never worked in the sitcoms, and well, if they couldn't do it on Three's Company, well, she probably couldn't either.

She went to bed worrying and dreamed that Don Knotts was attacking her with a rusty shovel while John Ritter played tic-tac-toe with Sesshoumaru. No one ever said that dreams have to make sense.

"Come and knock on our door…" she muttered, upon awakening. She dressed quickly and headed off to see Sesshoumaru, who was, of course, awake. As far as she knew, he didn't ever sleep. _You know_ she mused, _that's kind of creepy when you think about it._

"Alright," she said to him, "the first thing we have to do is to make you look … .less like you. So that we can go out and look for a way to get you home. Yeah." Easier said than done really. Wait! She had an idea.

They snuck into her parents' bedroom. Carol was quite sure that they were already awake; she could hear them in the kitchen, but she wanted to be on the safe side.

"Okay," she said, looking at the array of makeup on her mother's vanity, "I've actually never done this before, so bear with me." She was surprised that he'd consented to let her do this; she hadn't thought he'd much like looking human. Then again, she had tried to put it more like looking 'less intimidating so as not to make our lives more difficult' than 'more human'.

She gave him a critical glance. It had been difficult to convince him to change into some of her dad's clothes, but she couldn't very well have him walking around in full armor. The missing arm thing was more noticeable when he wore a T-shirt, but eh, some people _do_ have missing arms … it shouldn't concern anyone. (Though she hoped that no one would bring it up; she had a feeling that such a person would end up missing a few limbs of his own.)

Hmm … but the claws …she didn't even want to suggest that he cut them. At least she'd gotten him to tie back his hair. Silver was unusual …but kids were dying their hair all sorts of colors these days. Maybe nobody would notice. She wouldn't even know _how_ to dye hair, so at least she didn't have to risk asking him to do it. The good thing about all this was that she was learning to be very diplomatic.

The markings on his face … now those she could cover with makeup. Not that she'd ever used makeup before, except on Halloween. (She'd never had any real desire to, and her parents practically lived in the '50s anyway.) Well, how hard could it be?

"Alright" she bit her lip and started to go at him with the foundation.

"Oh my god!" A voice said from the door. No! Oh no! This was bad, really bad. Carol sputtered. She choked. She felt like she was having heart palpitations.

"No! It's not what it looks like!" She cried, absurdly. The poor girl couldn't think of anything to say, so great was her terror. What was her mother going to think of this?

"Sesshoumaaaruuu!" Cindy pointed at him, eyes glazed over in shock. Carol looked up from the floor (on which she was having an 'episode') and gasped.

"Cindy!" She sighed, somewhat relieved. At least it wasn't her mother.

"Sesshoumaaaruuu!" She said again, still pointing. Cindy looked insanely happy, suddenly, a little too happy, in Carol's opinion. She wouldn't. There's no way Cindy would even think of—oh who was she kidding? Of course she would! She could almost see the gears turning in the girl's mind.

"SESSHOUMAAAARUUU!" Cindy sounded her battle cry and charged towards the unfortunate demon.

_Ohgodohgod._ Carol thought. _This is gonna be BrightonCon '03 all over again…_ Carol remembered the events of a particular anime convention with a mixture of dry, unvarnished terror and crippling embarrassment, which was the way she always felt when she remembered why she couldn't go to anime conventions with Cindy anymore. Cindy loved Sesshoumaru. She loved him so much that it was seriously unhealthy. (Then again, most of Cindy's habits were seriously unhealthy anyway.) She'd jumped that poor Sesshoumaru cosplayer like he was an oversized T-shirt being shot up into the stands at a hockey game. They actually had to call in security to pry her off his leg. She was screaming 'I love you Sesshoumaru' for the better part of an hour.

But that was just some guy in a costume who was too traumatized to do anything. How would the real Sesshoumaru react? Visions of blood and guts and Cindy's head being detached from her body floated through Carol's mind. She couldn't let that happen to Cindy! Hell, she couldn't let that happen to the carpet! (Blood takes ages to get out, you know.)

"Cindy, don't ---!"

But it was too late. Cindy was already foaming at the mouth. The mindless fangirl squealing would start any moment now. Carol covered her eyes. She couldn't look she just couldn't look. The horror!

The horror.

Carol braced herself for the bloody scene that was sure to unfold any minute.


	9. Naraku's Secret Obsession

Chapter 9: Naraku's Secret Obsession

"Oh …the pain,"

"My head!"

"My arm!"

"My spleen!"

Yes, cries of anguish filled the air as the group struggled to yank themselves up from the rubble.

"Well," said the old man, in a suspiciously disappointed tone, "now we won't have to rappel in."

Inu-Yasha breathed the breath of the relieved. Whew. Just like that. The old man righted Agnes's hat, which was slightly askew from the fall.

"How is that thing so unharmed?" asked bruised-in-pain-and-still-covered-with-weird-grayish-lumps Miroku. It was a weirdly phrased sentence but hey, give the guy a break, he just dropped a significant distance into a hole in the ground.

"Comes of being a cactus. Family: Cactaceae, subfamily: Cereiodeae, to be specific." Said a small, affected voice that could only have come from—oh dear.

No way.

No cactus-talking way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in another area of feudal Japan:

"Master Jaken, have you seen Lord Sesshoumaru recently?

"No … now that you mention it, can't say that I have"

"Hmm" said Rin, sitting down.

"Hmm" said Jaken, standing up.

Wait—bwuh?

"That was … strange" said Rin.

"And pointless, "added Jaken.

And so, they went to go search for Sesshoumaru.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Did that cactus just talk?" asked Kagome.

"Well…yeah…what did you think, I was just some crazy old guy talking to a plant?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" Lord Sesshoumaru!' called Rin, checking behind a tree.

"Lord Sesshoumaru?" called Jaken, checking behind a – holy pig on a side winding baby carriage! That wasn't a boulder!

Jaken and Rin came face to face, cheek to cheek and, worst of all, gut to gut, with a huge grey … thing. It looked exactly like a boulder, but it couldn't be a boulder…because, as far as Jaken knew, boulders didn't grunt, move, or try to suffocate you with their massive hillbilly hangover.

Jaken struggled in vain to pull himself from the creature's huge, and decidedly hard, stomach.

"Master Jaken," whispered Rin, "Is that a demon?"

"Mmmph," said Jaken, who was still getting closely acquainted with the great-grand-daddy of all beer bellies.

"I is Boulder!" it rumbled, making the ground shake. "I eat you now!"

_Well,_ thought Jaken, _this won't end well_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile … somewhere else (bear with me)

Kagura had come to a decision. Naraku must die. Painfully. Slowly, if possible. She had decided on poison. Poison was good. Easy to conceal. Now, this was not a well-known fact, but Naraku has a secret obsession.

No, not that. Get your minds out of the gutter!

Not that, either. Out I say!

Naraku's secret obsession was: pudding. Specifically, vanilla pudding. Now, one day, Kagura crept into Naraku's bedroom and snuck a peak (OUT OF THE GUTTER) at

the pudding.

She immediately understood why he liked it so much. Naraku was really very much like the pudding; they had a lot in common. Both were squishy and gelatinous, beneath the outer skin, and both could be molded into different shapes.

So, Kagura had acquired some very potent poison from a local witch at a very reasonable price. Naraku had been so distracted lately, that he'd barely noticed. He ate a lot of pudding. Some days, he woke up with a little dribble of pudding sliding out from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

This, of course, is as disgusting as it is irrelevant, but, dammit, Kagura had to witness it, so you will too!

Kagura knew that there was no way he could resist the pudding. And, now, with Naraku so distracted, was the perfect time to strike. She mixed the poison into the pudding with glee. She smirked as she imagined Naraku consuming her tainted pudding and dying a horrible, pudding-filled death, swirling in an eternal abyss of pudding-based torment.

It was almost poetic. He'd die how he lived: stuffed with pudding. And poison. Okay, maybe he didn't live stuffed with pudding _and_ poison. Just the pudding. No poison. But now … all that would change.

She left the pudding out on a rock by the river, and hid in a tree to watch the show.

Summoned by the sweet, sweet scent of pudding, Naraku arrived shortly.

"Puddin'!" Naraku exclaimed, under his breath, "Yes, I … love pudding."

He chuckled to himself and began to hum the Puddin'-Eatin'-Song, very quietly, to himself. The words to this song will not be reproduced here, due to the sheer mental trauma they would cause. Suffice to say, the word 'puddin'' is used more than once, and 'yummy' and 'tummy' are mentioned.

Naraku lifted the bowl to his lips …


	10. Crazy Talk

Notes: Thanks to all my readers/reviewers! (I heart you all!) Say, does anybody think that the rating should be upped on this story? I don't really think there's anything too bad in here, but I've noticed that I am swearing quite a lot.(At least, more than I thoughtI would.) Oh well, here's the story:

Chapter 10: Crazy Talk

Carol put her hands over her eyes and waited for the mess. When she realized that screams of agony had yet to ensue, she peaked between her fingers.

Cindy was just standing there. Standing. With her mouth open. Carol lowered her hands slowly, cautious hope blooming somewhere past her liver. Maybe Cindy wouldn't after all…

"I …" Cindy began. Nope. Cautious hope fading. Hopeless terror returning. Carol stepped back a few feet, shielding her face.

"... love you, Sesshoumaru." Cindy said, pupils dilating to a frightening diameter. She leaned in, her nose practically touching his. "I LoVE yOU!" She pumped her fist in the air, salivating.

Sesshoumaru felt his left eye twitch. Well, there was definitely something wrong with _this_ one. He looked to Carol for an explanation, but she simply shook her head.

"Eeeeee!" screeched Cindy.

"Aaah!" yelped Carol, as Cindy grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Where did you get A LIFE-SIZED SESSHOUMARU DOLL!" Cindy leaned heavily against her friend, tightening her vice-like grip. "Where! And why didn't you TELL ME!"

"Cindy!" Carol gasped, "It's not—"

"Wait! I know! It's ..."here Cindy's voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes darting wildly, "… the mushroom people of Bangor 4! They've created a life-sized Sesshoumaru to trick us into giving them the CAULIFLOWER OF INFINITE WISDOM!" Cindy pulled a rancid, much abused head of cauliflower from her blouse.

"Unclean! Unclean!" Carol batted at the offending vegetable hysterically. "Put that away, Cindy!"

"Bwahahaha!" said Cindy, ignoring her. She brandished the cauliflower like a mafia patriarch brandishes a .357 Magnum, shoving it in Carol's face. "But we're too smart for that, Carol! We won't fall for their fUNgI MiND GaMeS!"

"Um … no, you see … "Carol struggled to explain, but, in truth, her story sounded almost as crazy as Cindy's. Seriously, a real _live_ Sesshoumaru? In the flesh? That was an awful lot like crazy talk, and Carol knew it.

"Look who's laughing now, mushroom people!" Cindy shook her fist at the ceiling, cauliflower and all. "Look who's laughing now!"

"Oy," said Carol, slapping her palm to her forehead. Cindy rambled on and on about the mushroom people of Bangor 4's dastardly scheme to steal the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom for several more minutes. Carol suspected that the root of this matter may in fact lie in Cindy's refusal to eat her vegetables. Suddenly, Cindy stopped mid-rant and stared at Sesshoumaru.

"So …" she said, "since I have thwarted the mushroom people, let us play with your LIFE-SIZED SESSHOUMARU! Hey, why were you putting make-up on him, Carol? I had no idea that you liked—"

"No, nothing like that! Listen, this is going to sound crazy but…" and here Carol realized just who she was talking to, "he's not a doll."

"Oh! I see," said Cindy, knowingly.

"Really?" Carol hadn't expected that.

"Yes, of course. 'Action figure', right?"

"Huh?"

"He's not a doll, he's an 'action figure'" Cindy made little air quotes with her fingers. "I get it."

"No … that's not it at all …" Carol glanced at Sesshoumaru, who had been watching them with interest. "This is the real Sesshoumaru."

"Really?" said Cindy, eyes widening.

"Yes."

"_Really_ really?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Really really." Carol confirmed.

"Oh." Cindy just stood there, for a moment, deep in whatever the Cindy-equivalent of thought was.

Carol tensed.

"Aeeiiieee! Sessshouuumarrruuuu!" Cindy let out a shriek that could curdle Molgate Extra Whitening Toothpaste. She made a mad dash for Sesshoumaru, but Carol was ready.

Oh so very ready.

"I'm not gonna relive BrightonCon '03" she muttered, restraining the Sesshoumaru-crazed girl. (Though, in fact, she would frequently relive it in nightmares and flashbacks for years to come) Sesshoumaru, also on the alert, had his sword drawn and held a squirrel's width from Cindy's nose. (This is, of course, assuming that said squirrel had a particularly bare tail, perhaps an early onset of squirrel-pattern-baldness)

As Cindy flailed and grabbed for Sesshoumaru, Carol desperately tried to hold her back.

"Don't worry, she just gets a little over-excited, sometimes," said Carol, eyeing the sword, "She reeeaaallllyyy likes you..."

"I LOVE YOU, Sesshoumaru!" yelled Cindy, illustrating Carol's point.

"This Sesshoumaru wants no such affection," he said, and Carol really couldn't blame him. Still, he did put away the sword. _Whoo!_ Thought Carol. _Score for me!_

"Cindy," Carol grunted, "Don't harass Sesshoumaru."

"But, but … I LOVE—"

"Yes, yes, I know," Carol said, comfortingly, "But you can't go grabbing him. You know … Sesshoumaru? Blood guts, killing, doesn't much like humans…does that ring a bell?"

"I LOVE—"said Cindy, stubbornly.

"Ah! No, calm, Cindy. Calm." Okay, maybe she should try a new tactic. "The mushroom people!" She blurted. Cindy stopped struggling and turned to face Carol. Good, now she had her attention.

"The mushroom people," began Carol, trying to sound like an authority on the subject of extraterrestrial fungi, "will certainly be able to steal the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom if you touch Sesshoumaru …they have Sesshoumaru-Touching Sensors implanted beneath his skin, " she invented.

Cindy considered this. Sesshoumaru seemed mildly amused. (At least Carol thought he did. It was kind of hard to tell. He _was_ Sesshoumaru, after all.)

"Beneath the spleen," Cindy said abruptly, "They always put the Sesshoumaru-Touching Sensors beneath the spleen."

"Right," said Carol, "did I said 'skin'? I meant spleen. Yes. Spleen."

"Aha!" said Cindy, twiddling the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom.

"Now, you understand why you can't touch/ harass/ or otherwise infringe upon the personal space of Sesshoumaru?"

"Yes, Sir!" Cindy saluted, clicking her heels, "It shall be difficult, but I will refrain from any of the aforementioned touching, harassing and infringing on personal space. -Ing. Infringing on personal space-ing, "she added, as an afterthought.

"Okay good," said Carol, "Now, we have to find some way to send Sesshoumaru home."

"B-but … I LOVE—"

"Easy, soldier, "Carol said sternly.

"Right!" Cindy saluted again.

"Hmm…" said Cindy, " Let's go see Madame Zelda, at the mall!"

"No way, we are _not_ dragging Sesshoumaru to some crazy mall psychic!"

"She's not crazy! She SeES InTO thE FuTURe! Spoooooky!" Cindy made spirit fingers.

At this Sesshoumaru started. Yes, he could use a glimpse into the future … The powers of the 'Maul-psychic' would be useful. He momentarily wondered if it was required that they be mauled _before_ visiting the psychic, but then brushed the idea away.

"Let us go visit this 'maul-psychic'," he said.

"Huh?" said Carol. Well, she reasoned, it couldn't hurt to see the nut, and arguing with Sesshoumaru could. No contest. "I guess we could …"

"Haha! Score for the CINDY!"

"…but first we'll need to finish your disguise, Sesshoumaru. So that nobody freaks out."

"Oo! Pick me, pick me!" Cindy raised her hand, waving to get Carol's attention. " I can help!"

"Um …I don't know if that's a good idea …" Carol remembered that Cindy's idea of presentable involved mismatched stockings, parachute pants and a whole lot of glitter.

"Nonsense!" said Cindy, taking the foundation off of the vanity. "I am a MASTER of disguise! Leave it all to me!"

Carol had a bad feeling about this.


	11. Possibilities

Well, it's been a long time, huh? The next chapter'll likely come out faster. Law of averages and all that. Anyways, how d'yall feel about the rating on this? I'm thinking of raising it, but I don't know if the content really warrants that.

Chapter 11: Possibilities

"So, you're a botanist?" Kagome asked, trying to get her facts straight.

"Yes," said Agnes, "It was the most peculiar thing, really. One minute I was in my lab, cultivating a particularly viscous strain of begonias, and the next minute, I was here. Most unsettling. Thank goodness this upstanding gentleman was here. Cacti, are, I am afraid, not much known for their mobility."

_How did a modern day botanist end up in the feudal era? _wondered Kagome, in her confusion completely skipping over the larger puzzle of how a cactus, a vocal-chord free organism, if ever there was, could speak.

"You are a botanist … but also a cactus?" asked Miroku. "Or was this a more recent development?"

"Yes, it seems that, upon entering this world, my form was changed."

"And the hat?" asked Inu-Yasha.

"It's dreadfully fashionable."

"Aha …"

"Well," said the old man, dusting himself off, "follow me, everyone, there's chairs in the Secret Zombie-Rebellion Base. Comfortable chairs. Okay, so not too comfortable—they're a little rickety. And hard. And there's this one chair that just presses right up against your—you know what, forget what I said about comfortable … they're actually un—say what's the matter?"

Shippo was shaking violently.

"Um … There aren't any," Sango lowered her voice "_stools_ in there, right?"

"Hum … not that I remember … why?"

"Long story," said Kagome. She shuddered, as did Shippo, Miroku, Sango and Inu-Yasha. There are some things that you just don't forget, no matter how hard you try.

They groped through the darkness, some more literally than others. (Miroku, remember, has _things_ to do. Important things, despite Sango's insistence otherwise.) Eventually, they came to a small lighted room.

"What's with the—" began Kagome. Ew. That's just disgusting.

"Well, it's funny that you mention that because …"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naraku lifted the tainted pudding to his lips, just about to consume its vanilla goodness, when suddenly a green blur whizzed past his nose.

The pudding fell to the dirt, sizzling. It began to erode the rock.

"No!" screamed Naraku and Kagura, simultaneously.

"What was that?" Naraku turned his head to the sound of her voice.

Kagura covered her mouth quickly.

"Nothing!"

"Really?"

"Yes."

It seemed to Naraku that it must have been something, but he was too busy mourning his puddin'. Sweet sweet concoction, cut down in the prime of life, just as it was so smooth and creamy and … acidic. _Look at it there_ he thought_, burning a hole in the ground, sadl_— _wait._ That didn't seem right. Not right at all.

His ruminations were interrupted by a deep booming voice:

"I is Boulder! I crush you now!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaken had never run so fast in his life. He thought he deserved some sort of award, especially since he had to drag Rin along on his back. A shiny award. With his name on it. And Lord Sesshoumaru could present it to him on a silver platter, wearing nothing but a –

"Hey, Lord Jaken!" Jaken sighed, jerked out of his decidedly interesting fantasy. What did she want _now_? He'd saved her from the grammatically incorrect Boulder, hadn't he? With some people, really, it was just take take take … When did _Jaken_ get his due, huh? He slaved all day, taking care of this pint-sized, ungrateful fantasy-interrupter and did he ever get a reward? Oh no! He didn't need much. All selfless, humble little Jaken wanted was to see Sesshoumaru in a –

"Look at these!" Jaken groaned as Rin held up a handful of the ugliest flowers he had ever seen in his life. They were hideous, swollen things. Probably over-watered by some halfwit human gardener … And the colors! Jaken couldn't be sure, but he thought that he may have just thrown up in his mouth a little. (Just a little. It was the chunky kind, though.)

Yet Rin stared at them with wide, delusional eyes, like they were the most beautiful flowers in the whole world.

"Oh Jaken!" she breathed, and say, what was wrong with her eyes? Jaken didn't like that look, didn't like it one bit. Was she salivating? "Smell them! They're wonderful!"

She shoved the flowers under his nose.

Jaken passed out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boulder, eh? That was a new one. Yet, Naraku was sure that the creature wasn't a demon. How strange …

He smashed it into small pieces. It wouldn't bring his puddin' back, but oh did it feel good!

To his shock, the small pieces jiggled angrily, like a celebrity who had had some 'work' done in a disreputable shack in eastern Guatemala, returned to the 'States with a nasty infection in an uncomfortable area, was called on it during a sleazy talk show interview, and was now trying fervently to deny that whole incident ever happened.

Yeah, it was like that. Exactly.

"We is Boulderlets!" they shrieked, again sounding like the aforementioned celebrity, right down to the sub-par grammar. Naraku raised an eyebrow.

The Boulderlets attempted to attack Naraku's left shoe. They had almost overtaken the sole when a stray breeze ripped them from their mildly painful revenge.

"We shall return!" They yelled. "With re-enforcements!" But Naraku wasn't listening. He stomped off to go see if he could find a good shoemaker to fix the slight tear.

Meanwhile, Kagura was not to be discouraged. Naraku was wily; obviously she'd need a better plan. Her eyes fell on the hole in the ground, slightly filled with its creator, the tainted pudding. Now this had _possibilities_.


	12. The Great Pom Pom Caper

Chapter Twelve: The Great Pom-Pom Caper

"Oh my," said Carol. It was the only thing she _could_ say, given the situation. She hadn't thought that Cindy would … oh my.

"There, now he is BEAUTIFUL!" Cindy closed a compact with a confident snap.

"Um…" Carol squinted. He was certainly _something,_ at least.

"Well, come on Carol, praise my GeNIuS!"

"Oh yes … it's very –interesting Cindy, but … you think we could maybe, possibly get rid of the … you know?" She gestured to the offending accessories.

Sesshoumaru turned towards the mirror, curious.

"No!" Carol yelled. "Wait 'til we fix it, trust me!" If Sesshoumaru saw what Cindy had done to his hair, dear lord, his _hair_–! Carol wasn't exactly sure what he would do, but she had a good idea what _she_ would do, if it had been _her_ hair that was … violated in such a way.

"Nonsense," said Sesshoumaru.

"No really, you don't want to—" but it was too late. Much too late.

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed.

"Get these pink … things, " he said, through clenched teeth, "out of my hair. Now."

"But they look so good on you!" cried Cindy.

"Whoa—heh, wait a minute. We'll just be taking those out now, okay? Yes? Cindy?"

"B-but—"

Carol was already removing the pink, sparkly pom-poms, ever conscious of Sesshoumaru's threatening gaze.

"They're so sparkly and pink!" Cindy whined.

"It's for the best," Carol grunted, tugging at a particularly obstinate pom-pom. Stupid thing wouldn't—oh no. Carol twisted it slightly to the left, carefully avoiding pulling Sesshoumaru's hair. (Which was, in case anyone is wondering, just as silky and strawberry-scented as everyone has come to believe. Really. I swear.) Still, the offending hair tie was stuck tighter than a three-hundred pound hillbilly lodged between a reasonably priced pet grooming salon and an SUV.

Sesshoumaru was getting impatient.

"Just a minute, heh—almost got it." Carol tugged frantically. A huge snarl had magically materialized around the pom-pom sometime after its introduction to the soft, aesthetically pleasing wonderland of Sesshoumaru's hair. (The hair is just that good. It has weird powers. )

"Hmm," Cindy leaned over, "it looks like that pom-pom is stu—"

"Don't use the s-word!" Carol hissed. _Must not alert Sesshoumaru of the problem,_ she thought. Of course, she had a sinking feeling that he already knew.

"—pendous. Stupendous! " Cindy finished, "That pom-pom is stupendous, and I for one think that we should leave it there forever. Yes! FOREVER!" Cindy jabbed Carol, raising her eyebrows, in a classic 'behold-my-cleverness-and-be-amazed' moment. You got a lot of those, around Cindy.

"Remove the pom-pom," said Sesshoumaru. Carol tried unsnarling the knot. This only served to enrage it. She suspected that it was laughing at her. The more she worked at it, the tighter the knot became. It was like some horrible reality TV show that just kept spiraling downwards into the seedy underworld of sex, drugs, and rich blonde heiresses trying live like human beings. Only not. The sentiment was the same, though. The sentiment. Both these situations made Carol die a little inside.

Carol yanked. She pulled, jerked, fiddled, coaxed, cajoled, threatened and prayed to the pom-pom gods for sweet sweet mercy. It was not to be. (The pom-pom gods are temperamental. And also very sparkly around the edges.) The pom-pom was fused to Sesshoumaru's hair.

Now, Carol had a few options. She could tell Sesshoumaru that the pom-pom wouldn't come out. This route was clearly utter madness. Carol could only imagine the rage, the blood and gore…the _ruined carpet_! No, she could not tell Sesshoumaru.

She could try to cut the pom-pom out without his knowing. Somehow, however, Carol knew that if a pair of scissors came within a five-mile radius of Sesshoumaru's hair, there would be hell to pay. Plus, she would have to enlist Cindy to clandestinely fetch a pair of scissors, and Cindy on a stealth mission was a recipe for disaster. Come to think of it, Cindy with a pair of scissors, safety or otherwise, was an even surer recipe for disaster. No way could Carol cut it out.

Maybe she could just ... leave it in, and _say_ she'd taken it out. He might not—oh who was she kidding? Of course he'd notice! Even _she_ noticed when something got caught in her hair, and she was human. The pom-pom could not escape Sesshoumaru's powerful demon senses anymore than certain character actors can escape the roles that made them famous or a pop-singer can escape the media circus.

Maybe she could cook up some scheme to convince him to leave the pom-pom in. She didn't see how it was possible, Sesshoumaru hated the pom-pom. In fact, _Carol _hated the pom-pom. Deeply. Well, it was behind his head, so he couldn't see _precisely_ how ridiculous it looked. Maybe there was hope. (_And maybe_, Carol thought, _tiny purple monkeys are dancing on the surface of my brain._) She knew it was a stupid plan, but it seemed to be the best option she had. The idea _did _have a strange appeal, yet it was just crazy enough to get the furniture scuffed. For the love of all that was clean and lemon-scented, she prayed that it would work.

"Stupendous," she muttered, her legs feeling like jelly. (And not the good kind of jelly, either, the cheap kind that people never really set out to get, but always seem to bring home with them, confused as to how it got in their shopping bags. The kind of jelly that tends to be an impulse buy at the cash-register, or the result of some coupon clipped from the back of a tasteless magazine. )

"Have you taken out the pom-pom, wench?"

"See now, about that …" Carol began, taking a deep breath. Now or never. "I didn't notice before, but, this is a special … pink, sparkly pom-pom." Okay. Not the best start. Still Carol pushed on.

"In this world, it is a sign of great power. Great sparkly power. And nobility! Oh the nobility!"

"Don't forget strength and intellectual prowess!" put in Cindy, who could be helpful, at times. Law of averages, and all that.

"Yes. It's highly respected. Um…it suits you. Yes! A symbol of your greatness!" Carol said, trying to gage his reaction.

"And mushrooms!" said Cindy, ruining her previous helpful streak.

"No mushrooms," corrected Carol, sharply. "Really."

Sesshoumaru considered this. Carol held her breath. Cindy had no concept of the imminent danger to her precious, precious life juices whatsoever.

"So should I leave it in?" asked Carol, when the pressure became too much for her to bear. She'd like to know precisely _when_ her spinal cord would be rearranged, thank you very much.

Sesshoumaru nodded.

"No! Not my spinal co—oh, "said Carol, relieved. She resolved to go out and eat at the local Shady Ben's Discount Sushi Bar. She felt lucky today.

"Can we go see Madame Zelda now?" asked Cindy.

"Um …" Carol appraised Sesshoumaru. Let's see, he had the human clothes, the human skin (Cindy, shockingly, wasn't at all bad at applying cover-up), the human-ish hair (Carol tucked the pom-pom discreetly into his ponytail, under the guise of 'straightening' it) … what else?

Well, she figured that sunglasses would disguise his eyes, not that they weren't fabulous. But she didn't think they even made _contact lenses_ in that color, and they couldn't risk drawing attention to themselves. It was a given, of course, that there would be some stares, he _was_ Sesshoumaru, after all, so the best Carol could do was to minimize the shock factor. Was there anything else that she could fix? The ears!

As a rule, people don't walk around with pointed ears. (Unless, of course, there's some sort of convention.)

"Hold on," said Carol. She pulled his hair over the ears as best she could, so that only the lower halves of them showed. Some people did wear their ponytails like that. Yes. Thank goodness for Sesshoumaru's thick fabulous hair.

"Now?" said Cindy.

"Yes, I suppose. You can call Chad to pick us—"

A horn honked.

"Whoo! Chad's here!" said Cindy, flailing her arms for no good reason.

"How did you—never mind." Carol really didn't want to know. "Come on." They marched down the stairs.

Chad was Cindy's older brother and he had a car. Sort of. It was more like a loosely connected pile of gears with an engine in front and a pair of worm-eaten fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. (The dice made it cool, according to Chad. It should be mentioned that there may have, in fact, been something wrong with Chad. This does not come entirely as a surprise.) Anyway, it was the bane of small animals everywhere, Chad's car, although it was a small miracle that it could go fast enough to actually hit them. It also ate gas like some people eat potato chips. (That is, by the truckload.)

Sesshoumaru stared at it, sniffing the air in disgust. The car backfired several times, sending clouds of black exhaust fumes into the sky. Something under the hood rattled. A bird pooped on the windshield.

"Who's the …" Chad paused for a moment, "guy?" Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed.

"Hey-hooo yeah, what a jokester, Chad is. Hee. Always joking. Always. Heh. With the joking. Yeah. This is," Crap, she hadn't thought of this, "um… My cousin. My cousin Franklin. From Newbridge. That's in Rhode Island. Yes." Carol didn't know if there was a Newbridge, Rhode Island, but she was banking on the fact that Chad didn't either.

"Franklin?" Cindy mouthed. Carol elbowed her.

"Oh. Cool. Come on." Chad shrugged.

"Shotgun!" yelled Cindy, diving into the passenger seat.

"Don't get glitter all over it, this time, alright?" Beat up as it was, the car was Chad's baby.

"It's to confuse the seat gremlins!"

"Whatever, just don't—" As they argued, Carol and Sesshoumaru slid into the backseat.

"Buckle your seatbelt," Carol whispered, "here," she helped him snap it in place, "You'll thank me for this later, trust me."

"Ph34R the Gremlins!" Cindy was shouting; she was the only person Carol knew who could actually vocalize netspeak.

"Listen, we haven't got much time, but before we go I should warn you," Carol went on, as quietly as she could manage, "you don't have cars back in your world, I guess, but its similar to …I dunno a horse and carriage? Only without the horses," She wasn't making any sense, but she didn't know a thing about feudal Japan, really. Particularly Inu-Yasha style feudal Japan. Had they even addressed this issue in the show? She couldn't remember. Sesshoumaru looked at her as though she had gone insane. "Uh, yeah, and Chad, well, he's not—"

And they were off. It should, at this point, be mentioned that even New York cabbies were disturbed by Chad's driving. Upon seeing his car screaming down the street (or, on one very memorable occasion, sidewalk) people tended to think that he was on some sort of homicidal rampage and sought to contact the appropriate authorities. Carol couldn't believe that he still had his license. Perhaps he didn't.

Sesshoumaru clawed the seats as they headed straight for an elderly woman carrying what looked suspiciously like an explosive device. Said elderly woman was already being pursued by a troop of angry looking gentlemen in black uniforms. She didn't seem at all phased by the metal death-machine careening towards her.

Neither, in fact, did Chad. He was too busy yelling at Cindy about glitter. Cindy had her fingers in her ears and was loudly humming 'Yankee Doodle'.

"Um…guys?" said Carol, eyes locked on the old lady. No response. "Guys?"

The old lady got ever closer.

Some of the men in black were talking into headphones.

"The road, Chad!"

"—on my seats Cindy! Always on my seats!" he yelled, gesturing emphatically with both hands. The car swerved and Carol felt her stomach lurch.

"The wheel!"

"Oh yeah. And you got it all over the wheel too, _Lucinda Anne_!"

"Take the wheel Chad!" A tree approached from the left, out of nowhere.

"Yes, yes," he waved her off, putting his knee on it. The car reeled to the right, like some drunken Cabaret dancer.

"Ahhh!" yelled Carol. There was that old lady again! Carol could just barely hear the package in the old woman's hands ticking over the deafening roar of the engine.

Sesshoumaru was plastered to the seat, holding on for dear life.

Carol braced herself for the impact.

The old woman, horrifyingly, started to run _toward_ the car.

"Running! Why is she running?" said Carol, and all the while her mind was chorusing: _We're gonna die, we're gonna die and Chad will still be going on about the glitter, and WE'RE GONNA HIT THAT OLD LADY!_

Just before the inevitable impact, the old woman tucked the package under her left arm and leapt into the air. She somersaulted over the car, using the hood as a springboard. Cackling, she sped off into the woods, all the while being pursued by the men in black. A few moments later, a loud explosion ensued, but Carol couldn't hear it over the death metal that blared on the radio.

Cindy was still singing 'Yankee Doodle', trying to drown out the death metal, and Chad kept cranking the radio up louder and louder.

Cindy's family had a particularly noisy way of not speaking to each other.

"What was it you were trying to say before, Carol?" Chad yelled.

"Never mind!" Her nerves had left her somewhere around the amazing feats of the acrobatic old lady.

The rest of the way was uneventful enough, as far as driving in Chad's death-bucket went. They hit three squirrels, two badgers, and grazed a small child. (Its parents were apparently going to file a lawsuit. "Good luck with that," said Chad, not unkindly; he already had more than a few pending.) They took out seven mailboxes and a power line, a personal best for Chad. They also got into a fender-bender, which wasn't entirely Chad's fault, for once. But we won't go into that.

By the time they arrived at the mall parking lot, Sesshoumaru felt that several hundred years had been shaved off of his life. He stumbled shaken from the car, followed by a jittery Carol. Cindy was completely unfazed. (Indeed, she would likely become a similar road hazard, at some point, assuming they even let her behind the wheel after all of Chad's infractions.)

"Solid ground," sighed Carol. "How I missed you!" Driving with Chad had always been an experience. Each time, after getting out of the car (either on her own, or with police assistance), she promised herself that she'd never do it again.

Sesshoumaru, at least, seemed to have composed himself. She remembered her first ride with Chad, back when he'd just acquired his license… She hadn't been able to eat solid food for a week. That mailman must've gotten out of the hospital by now, right? She didn't know that the same could be said of the poor hot-dog vendor.

_Okay,_ she thought, as they walked away from the still-cooling car, _one obstacle down. You can do this, Carol. _ _Operation: Take Sesshoumaru Out in Public Without Bringing Down Western Society as We Know It went off without a hitch thus far. Pretty much, anyway. You can do this._

Cindy bounced along, whistling and twiddling the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom, her quarrel with Chad forgotten.

"Dammit Cindy!" They heard Chad scream from behind them, "You got glitter on the seats again!"

Alright, almost forgotten.


	13. Plans, Pudding, and Pointless

A/N: Meh. This one's shorter than I'd hoped it be, but I have a good feeling about the next chapter. This story just keeps going, doesn't it? Like the Energizer bunny. Whatever happened to him? Someone should file a missing bunny report. Clearly something is amiss.

Chapter Thirteen: Plans, Pudding and Pointless Alliteration

Kagura's plan was simple. All the best plans are. She knew because it said so in her new book: Pun Moo's Fart of War. Despite its decidedly lewd title, (really, fart jokes? So fourteenth century) it had some decent advice. Like putting fire-ants in your enemy's underwear. Or, putting fire ants into your enemy's breakfast cereal. Or, putting fire ants in your enemy's favorite fuzzy slippers, with the little pink baboons on the front. (That one was oddly specific.)

Of course, it also gave some really poor advice, like disposing of unwanted fire-ants in your enemy's shampoo. The extra-silky, vitamin-rich concoction only served to enrage them. Kagura still had marks.

But that was okay; by now, Kagura had moved past those dark times. She learned how to weed out the good advice from the bad. For example:

_Pun Moo says: In order to defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy._

Good advice.

_I mean really, know your enemy._

Still okay.

_Like, get into your enemy's head. Then, on a Tuesday afternoon, break into his house after he leaves, and wear the 'special' outfits he keeps in his sock drawer…_

See, now we're veering off course.

_And prance around singing "I'm a little teapot", like you're a little girly-teapot man, who like, I dunno, enjoys being around teapots and having tea parties with his little sister's dollies that my mommy wouldn't let me play with 'cause she said it was weird and wearing cute paper doilies on his head like he's some kind of girly-teapot tea-cozy making, sweater knitting, weasel tapping, pink pony loving man. Some girly, teapot pinky little sweet fluffy love, badger licking, dolly loving man who likes wearing his enemy's clothes. Yeah. Yeah! And then, like, when you enemy comes home, you gotta, like, hit him with a kitchen utensil and shove a spoon up your nose and be all "Who's the big man now? Huh? HUH? I don't wanna be a fry cook, Daddy! Why wouldn't you let me be a contortionist or a circus midget or a chocolate crawler like I'd always dreamed? WHY CAN'T YOU ACCEPT ME?" _

Bad advice.

_"Spank me for my wrongdoings!"_

Really bad advice.

It was easy, once you got the knack of it.

And Kagura had not only gotten the knack, she'd hogtied it, stashed it in the basement and repeatedly slapped it around, all the while asking who its daddy was. (A man named Johann Smith, apparently. He was a half-German locksmith who was more at home picking his nose than picking locks, but that's beside the point.)

After poor Knack Smith was reduced to a gibbering pile of lug-nuts and discarded treasures from the depths of Johann's nostrils, Kagura was ready to put her plan into action.

She covered the hole where the tainted pudding had fallen with moss. She hadn't been able to find fresh moss, so it was browning slightly at the edges. Also, the hole resided in a grassy, clover-filled area, not a patch of moss in sight, so the moss was more than a little out of place.

Still, Kagura had a good feeling about this. Whistling, she attached string to a small bowl of pudding on a floating lily, grabbed the other end and hid behind the bushes to wait. The pudding bobbed in the water enticingly.

It wouldn't be long now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Boulderlets were forming a plan. Naturally, it was a poorly formulated, grammar-intolerant plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

They would destroy this 'Naraku', at all costs. Even if they had to rip apart _both _his shoes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Is that really—" Kagome stuck her finger in it. "Ooh! It is!"

"Kagome," said Sango, looking at her as though she'd lost her mind, "are you sure that it's wise to be eating it?"

"It's perfectly safe," said the old man.

Miroku remembered the stairs and how they'd been 'perfectly safe' as well.

"Kagome," he said, "I really think you shouldn't eat it."

"Well, I do like chocolate better, but pudding's pudding."

"What's a 'pudding'?" said Inu-Yasha, examining some odd bottles in the corner of the room.

"It's a dessert. This tastes like the instant pudding, though. Definitely not from this era." Kagome was one of those people who could tell. "How could there be a huge vat of pudding here?" Alright, there had to be some connection to the strange influx of anachronisms.

The old man shrugged. "It came with the place."

"Why have you been bottling it?"

"There's this guy that I sell it to, really creepy. I mean, who wears a baboon suit? Said his name was … uh Naruto, or Nariku or..."

"Naraku?" They said, simultaneously.

"Yeah! That's the name! Completely off his nut, but he loves his pudding, I can tell you that."

Kagome was deeply disturbed by the mental image this information produced. Great, now every time she thought about vanilla pudding, she'd also have to think of Naraku. Eating pudding. Naraku, the man who had managed to give creepy a new name (he called it 'Fujibadawa', in case anyone was wondering) eating pudding. Likely, getting pudding all over his face and baboon costume. (What was up with that anyway?) Perhaps, a small rivulet of pudding running down his chin…

Ew. Kagome's insides revolted, heaving against the oppressive skin regime that had worked so hard to keep them in their place. She stared at the pudding on her finger. Yep. All she could think of was Naraku dribbling pudding. Discreetly wiping it off on the side of the vat, Kagome came to a decision: She was officially off pudding for a while.

"Are you alright Kagome?" asked Sango. "I knew you shouldn't have eaten that pudding."

"No, I'm fine. Just …thinking." She felt a tad ill.

"Why would Naraku want pudding?" Miroku rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps he's developed a taste for it?" said Agnes.

Kagome moaned, clutching her stomach.

"No, no," said the old man, "I'll bet he uses it as a zombie repellant! You know, rubbing it all over his body, gently, but oh so thoroughly…"

"Oh!" groaned Kagome. Okay, she had to get her mind off of this. _If you don't want your bathtub to be filled with crud…_

"Massaging it into his skin, kneading in small counterclockwise circles down his—"

"OH!" Even the hated jingle couldn't drown him out!

"Isn't that what _you _do with it?" sniffed Agnes.

Kagome went green. No more pudding. Ever.

"Kagome, what's wrong?" asked Inu-Yasha. "Kagome?"


	14. The Maul Psychic

A/N: Well, it's been a while, but here it is. This is, shockingly, the chapter when the Plot begins to rear its ugly head again. :beats plot with stick: Back, back foul beast!

Chapter Fourteen: The Maul Psychic

They marched up to the mall entrance. A large "Out of Order" sign hung on the automatic doors. Technology, you have failed us again!

"Let's use the revolving doors!"

"No." said Carol, who had been in a revolving door with Cindy before.

"Come on, Cousin Franklin!" Cindy said. If it were possible for a three dimensional personage to sweatdrop, Carol would have. "You'll love the revolving door! Love it I say!"

"Just because the sliding doors are out of order doesn't mean that you can subject us all to the swirling terror of the revolving door. We'll just do it the old fashioned way, thanks."

"How can a door be out of order?"

"Oh, they're supposed to slide open by themselves…" He looked at her like she had just grown a second head. "Uh. Long story. Let's head in."

"Right," Cindy nodded and attacked the revolving door.

"This one, trust me," Carol heaved open the manual door.

The mall was pretty ordinary. It had those ugly, mixed-color-flecked floor tiles that infest places of business across the universe. They came in all stomach-churning colors and, for reasons beyond Carol's comprehension, were quite popular. Her dentist had them, too.

As they hustled toward the elevator, Carol noticed a group of teenaged girls coming out of the Gothz R Us. They walked past them, taking up the whole aisle as they went, and Carol really wouldn't have paid them any mind (aside from silently wishing a thousand deaths by plastic spork on their heads for blocking the aisle so thouroughly), had it not been for the one girl.

The girl in the middle's eyes rested briefly on Sesshoumaru as she adjusted her bag. She almost went back to talking to her friend, but then stopped. She did a double take. Her eyes widened.

Uh-oh. Carol's stomach sank to her shoes. An anime fan. This could be trouble.

"Um," she said, very quietly, "We'd better go this way." She ducked into Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, a weapons and firearms sort of place, which was currently holding a giant flamethrower sale. (Buy one flamethrower, get two tasers free, while supplies last.)

As a man who may or may not have been Crazy Dan himself tried to sell Sesshoumaru some nunchucks, Carol anxiously eyed the girl as she passed.

"Guys…" said she, to her friends, "you'll never believe what I saw! That guy over there looks just like Sephiroth!"

Carol twitched. Wrong character, but right idea. Could still be a problem.

"I have no need of your pathetic weapons, human," Sesshoumaru was telling the man. Crazy Dan, for his part, just nodded. He'd dealt with his fair share of crazies, and would do it again if it meant making a sale.

"Oh but this is a magnificent weapon! Look at the handle, there, that's pure Indonesian bull hide!" Actually, Dan was talking pure Indonesian baloney. People seemed to be more inclined to buy from him if he said it was from Indonesia, though. He had no idea why.

Carol realized that it would be best if they left before Sesshoumaru decided to demonstrate the superiority of Toukijin to any of Crazy Dan's merchandise.

"Sephiroth?" the second girl cried. Carol cringed. "He does not!" She sighed, relieved.

"Okay, we can go—"

"He looks like Sesshoumaru, duh!" And Carol turned right back into the store.

"Yeah, Jessica, _duh_! That hottie is clearly the spitting image of my Fluffy-sama!" said the third. Carol paled. _Please, please let him not be paying attention._ She prayed.

"_Your_ Fluffy-sama?" The second girl said, voice rising in pitch. "Fluffy is mine!"

"Fat chance," said the first girl, Jessica, "He's mine! And I'm going to ask that guy out, too."

"You're going to ask that guy out, huh? Not if I get there first!" The second girl wailed, lunging in the general direction of Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza.

"No fair, Marissa! I saw him first!" said Jessica.

Eeep. Carol glanced nervously towards Sesshoumaru. He was still arguing with Crazy Dan, and it looked like he was losing his patience.

"Don't even, Jess! You got to ask out that guy who looked just like Orlando Bloom last week. And, Marissa, _you_ got to ask out that guy that looked just like Elvis the week before _that_! This one is mine!" said the third girl.

"Dream on, Kayla!" The three girls fought their way to the entrance of the store.

Carol stood stunned for a moment, unsure of what to do. Also, she was shocked that people still were seeing Elvis after all this time.

_Okay, Carol, get a grip. Must keep Sesshoumaru away from the fangirls. Must not bring down Western Society as we know it. _She marched over to the counter, filled with new resolve.

"Look, he doesn't want to buy anything," she said to Crazy Dan.

"Nonsense, little girl! Here at Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, we have enough dangerous and potentially illegal pieces of weaponry to suit all your dangerous and potentially illegal pieces of weaponry needs!"

"How much for the flamethrower?" asked Cindy, from the corner.

"No!" said Carol. Usually, they wouldn't sell weapons to a minor, but this was Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, and, the laws of the outside world did not necessarily apply here. "Put down the flamethrower, Cindy," she said, just as Crazy Dan was explaining the buy-one-flamethrower-get-two-tasers-free deal.

"We have to see Madame Zelda!" At that, Cindy was out of the door so fast that the rubber on the bottom of her shoes nearly caught on fire.

"Well," said Carol, "We'd better go get her." She and Sesshoumaru headed to the elevator. Cindy had already gone on ahead. Carol made sure that they avoided the three girls as they got in.

A few people milled around the outer corners of the elevator. There was a fat man, a mother with a baby in a stroller, and an elderly woman in a wheelchair being pushed by a man who must have been her son, he looked so much like her.

"Okay, so it's gonna move down," she whispered to Sesshoumaru, eyeing the other passengers. "It works by pulleys and stuff, I don't know, just thought I'd warn you."

The elevator slowly descended. Sesshoumaru seemed startled, but quickly steadied himself. That is until…

Creak!

The elevator screeched to a halt and everyone but Sesshoumaru and the old lady in the wheelchair hit the ground.

"Why have we stopped moving?" Carol said aloud, although she already knew the answer.

"I think … I think we're stuck," said the man with the old woman.

"Stuck!" yelled the fat man. "We can't be stuck!"

"Stuck?" Sesshoumaru turned to Carol, eyebrows raised.

"Oh … yeah, it happens sometimes. No worries. They'll send someone along to—to un-stick us as soon as possible." Of course, Carol had never been stuck in an elevator, but she had heard the stories. Oh the stories! People, she had heard, were known to be forced to wait for _hours_ to be rescued. (Or maybe that was the "It's a Small World" ride in Disney World, she got them confused sometimes.)

"Ronald!" hollered the old lady, reaching behind her to tug on the man's shirt. "Why aren't we moving?" She had amazing lung power, for someone so old.

"Oh. We're stuck, Ma, I told you."

"Well, you just un-stick us this minute, young man!"

"Um…I can't do that, Ma; we need to wait for a professional."

"Don't you back-sass me! Need to wait for a professional, well! If you'd just gone to technical school like I told you—"

"Not that again, Ma! Every time we go out you always start in with the—"

Ug. Carol leaned against the bar in the back of the elevator, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. How long would they be in here?

Now, it is a curious fact that, every time a fair amount of people are obliged to spend a fair amount of time in an enclosed space, a baby begins to cry. Baby George was not about to drop the ball on this. He opened his mouth and let loose a formidable wail.

"Ooo!" gushed his mother, "Don't cr-wy, ickle Georgie! Mommy is here! That bad old ewevator will get moving weally weally soon!"

"Arg!" yelled the fat man, "Stuck, we're stuck." He gestured emphatically, pacing. "How much air do we have in here? How can we survive without food or water?"

"Ronald why can't you be more like your father, Lord rest his soul? Now there was a man—"

"Waaaaahhhh!"

Sesshoumaru flinched slightly.

"Poor Georgie-Worgie! Do you want your ba-ba?"

"We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!" The fat man paced spastically, waving his arms above his head.

"WAAAAAAAA!"

"Hey! You're scaring the wittle baby-waby!"

"Don't you understand, woman? We're all going to die without food in here! We'll have to EAT the baby to survive!"

"Excuse me? No one is going to eat my baby!"

"WAAAAAAHHHH!"

"Oh, there, there Georgie-pie. Mommy won't let the bad man hurt you!"

"I am not my father, Ma! Stop comparing me to him. Why can't you just—"

"You're a disappointment, Ronald and—"

"WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

"Ha-ha! I've got him! Someone start a fire!"

"Put down my baby right now!"

"This is a life or death situation! Survival of the fittest!"

At this point, Sesshoumaru was getting annoyed, and, when Sesshoumaru is annoyed, it can be quite painful for those around him. This people know instinctively.

"Silence," said Sesshoumaru, and everyone shut up.

When Sesshoumaru is annoyed, he does not yell, because he does not need to yell, because, when Sesshoumaru says to shut up, people shut up. Or else.

All eyes were on the white-haired demon now, and Carol began to fear for her life and the lives of those around her. She did this quietly, however, because Sesshoumaru had just told everyone to shut up, and she of all people knew that the 'or else' wasn't just an implication, it was a _promise_.

"You, " Sesshoumaru said, very slowly and very deliberately, "will all sit down right now. You will sit down, and, more importantly, you will not say _anything_. Anyone who does otherwise will answer to me."

Unsurprisingly, everyone sat down and remained silent until the repairman came about a half hour later. Even the baby.

The elevator door opened with a swish, and Sesshoumaru stepped out, followed closely by Carol. The other people in the elevator stayed in their places until Sesshoumaru was out of sight.

"Where were you guys?" said Cindy, with her mouth full.

"Got stuck in the elevator. What are you eating?"

"Dunno, the guy said it was a house specialty. It's furry!"

"Guy?"

"At Shady Ben's Discount Sushi Bar."

"Oh." Carol winced. The car ride back would not be fun.

"And gulp 'Shomaru, mph, I talked to one of the psychics. Madame Zelda, sadly, was not there," she swallowed, "She must have been kidnapped by the mushroom people or Bangor 4! We shall stage an intergalactic rescue mission, yes?" Cindy looked up hopefully.

"Uh…let's go check and see if she's back."

They approached the mall psychic booth. It was tucked into the corner of the mall, near the food court, as if it were slightly ashamed of itself.

Ask Madame Zelda! A garish sign proclaimed. And in smaller print: ten-fifty per session, twelve ninety-nine for large groups.

There was a blonde girl at the counter; she was maybe sixteen or seventeen and wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like a medieval barmaid Halloween costume. (The end-of-the-year-Halloween-blowout tag that hung from the elbow did nothing to discourage this idea.)

"Look, kid, I told you, this is just a summer job! Now go away!" She said, upon seeing Cindy. The girl went back to filing her nails.

"But Madame Christina, you seE iNtO ThE fUTurE!" Madame Christina glanced upward icily, and then returned to her nails.

"No. No I don't. No one does. Probably not even Madame Zelda. Stop asking me those stupid questions! How am I supposed to know whether the French fry you found on the sidewalk last week will go on to live—what was it you said? A happy and productive life? You're crazy."

"Blasphemer!"

"Go away!"

"She speaks with the LIES I say!" Cindy fumed.

"Is Madame Zelda here?" Carol asked miserably, eager to get this whole fiasco over with.

"Yeah, she's in the back. And no charge if you take that one with you! Please!"

They ducked behind Madame Christina, under the glittery blue velvet curtain. Behind it was a small, dark room, appropriately spooky.

"Come in, dahlings!" said a voice. "Madame Zelda vill see you now!"

"Oh please," mouthed Carol, "Don't take this too seriously," she whispered, but Sesshoumaru was already approaching the table.

"Ah yes, I see you haff brought a young man. A lover, perhaps?"

"No!" said all three of them, simultaneously. Cindy even made little gaggy-motions for effect. (Despite her burning love for Sesshoumaru, Cindy had never yet passed up an opportunity to make little gaggy motions.)

"Yes, I see, I see—" Madame Zelda put her long fingernails to her temple, "I see that he is your cousin. Your cousin Franklin."

"She seEs iNtO ThE fUTurE!" breathed Cindy, in awe.

"Alright, that was a freakish coincidence," said Carol.

"Do not doubt Madame Zelda, little non-believer! She is haffing the second sight!" Madame Zelda flourished dramatically.

"Yes! We need to know how to get him home!" Cindy gestured to Sesshoumaru, "Please, Madame Zelda, use your magic powers and call upon the spirit realm!"

"Patience, child. Let us fetch the crystal ball!" Madame Zelda ducked under the table, frizzy hair flying.

_Here we go again_, thought Carol.

She pulled out a huge glass ball on a fancy pedestal. Setting it carefully on the table, she reached into a pouch at her side and flung around what she called 'the Herbs of the Underworld'. The Herbs of the Underworld, for the record, smelled suspiciously like oregano.

"Now, I vill need somfting of the young man's."

Wordlessly, Sesshoumaru pulled out Tenseiga. He handed it to Madame Zelda, who lifted it over the crystal ball, surprised. She'd never been handed a _sword_ before. Who even carries around a sword? Actually, even Carol was shocked that he had it on him; she'd thought he left it at her house.

Madame Zelda set the sword down carefully, just in front of the crystal ball.

"The spirits are temperamental, so I caution: do not interrupt the ceremony once it has begun!" She looked sharply at Carol.

"Now, hold hands!"

"What're we conducting a séance?" Carol muttered. Cindy shushed her and took her hand. The fact that Sesshoumaru had only one arm proved a temporary problem, which Cindy solved by grabbing his pants. He tolerated it, luckily, because he was so intent on watching Madame Zelda's every move.

"Spirits! Can you hear me?" Madame Zelda lifted her arms. "Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa!" She droned.

Suddenly, the crystal ball began to flicker. Carol was unimpressed, but it looked as though Sesshoumaru's eyes were about to bug out of his head.

"Spirits!"

The ball began to hum.

"Make known your precedence…er presence! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa!" She tried to cover up her mistake, rolling her head around violently.

She jerked forward, a strangled sound escaping her throat and pointed her fingers at the ball.

"Behold!"

Nothing.

"Oh ah-heh, yes the spirits are very temperamental! They do not always—"

"Kagome, what's wrong?" asked a voice. "Kagome?" All eyes were glued to the crystal ball.

There in the ball was a large room with huge vat in the middle, and a familiar white-haired, dog-eared boy stood near an equally familiar girl in a school uniform.

Cindy squealed.

Carol gasped.

Madame Zelda fainted.

And Sesshoumaru … Sesshoumaru _growled_.


	15. The Arrest

A/N: Seriously, though, no matter how long the space between updates, I am going to finish this. Also, some plot threads are actually being followed up on in this chapter. (GASPETH!) The story is winding to an end, whoo!

Chapter Fifteen: The Arrest

"What should we do now?" asked Carol, staring into the ball. The image flickered, and then disappeared.

"Hmm…" Cindy prodded the supine body of Madame Zelda. "It seems that she has succumbed to the malignant forces of the otherworld."

"Oh." Carol stood up. "Well, there's definitely something weird going on h—"

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" A green blur hurtled into the room, falling at the feet of the white-haired demon.

"Jaken?" said Carol, Cindy and Sesshoumaru, simultaneously.

"I…:huff: found you::pant: … What is this strange place?"

"Um." Oh no. Carol did some quick mental calculations. Hiding Sesshoumaru was one thing. At least he looked (mostly) human. How ever would she manage keeping the toad-like Jaken secret? He was green, for goodness sake! Green!

"It's hard to explain," Carol continued, feeling a bit green herself. "What's the last thing you remember?" Unbidden, images of explaining Jaken to her mother came to Carol's mind.

"_See, Mom, it's my science project," she'd say, making wild gestures in hopes of taking her mother's attention away from the obvious (it wouldn't work, her mother was sharper than a serial killer's bloodstained machete). _

_"Science project?" Her mother's eyebrow would raise. 'I haven't heard of any science project…' she'd be thinking._

_"Er…yeah. It's a … mutated lima bean!" _

_And her mother would just stare at her. _

_"Are you feeling all right, Carol?" _

_Red faced, Carol would cringe. "Fine! Never been better! A-okay over here, really, heh, I mean—"_

Oh, Jaken was talking. Carol jerked out of her morbid fantasy.

"There was this white light, and …"

"What about before that?" _Maybe there's some sort of link between Sesshoumaru's situation and Jaken's? Duh, of course there's a link! There always is! And then the killer jumps out from behind the bushes. Link first, then serial killer. Yes. Just like in the movies. _ There was a method to these things.

Jaken considered this. "That Rin and her awful flowers! She forced me to _smell _it, my lord! Ugh. If that wasn't the most ugly flower I have ever seen—"

"Flowers?" said Sesshoumaru, suddenly. "This flower… was it pink and purple?"

"It was hideous, my lord, all swollen around the petals. It hurt to look at it and—what?" Jaken looked up from his tirade.

"Was the flower pink and purple?

"Yes! It was!"

"Ha-ha!" said Cindy, "Did it have deadly spores?"

"No."

"An aura of mind-shattering evil?"

"No."

She shrugged. "Pah! Then it is just a mere flower! Can I try on your hat?"

"No!" said Jaken, aghast.

"These flowers—" Carol began.

Suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shhh! Not here!"

"Cindy, quit it!" Carol tried to say, but since her mouth was covered, it came out 'Mphinee, fuit et!'

"No!" cried Cindy, holding Jaken's hat over his head.

"Wretched girl!"

"Dance Jaken, dance!"

That Cindy was going to get herself killed one of these days.

Wait a minute…

Holding Jaken's hat over his head? Cogs in Carol's tired brain belatedly began to whirr… _let's see, if Cindy is over there, and the person who's gagging me is behind me…yes! _Two plus two does indeed equal four!

Uh-oh.

Meanwhile…

"Nothing, nothing," Kagome waved Inu-Yasha off. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"Really! No…ug, problem." Kagome turned from the offending vat of pudding. Out of sight, out of mind. More importantly, out of sight, away from stomach.

"So exactly how are we going to get rid of the zombies?" asked Miroku, addressing the old man.

"We will use the principles of the greatest piece of literature in all the world!"

"And just what is that?"

The man fished around in his pants and produced a battered, weather-beaten tome. In large, garish letters, the title read "Pun Moo's Fart of War"

"That's the great literature?" snorted Inu-Yasha. "What kind of a name is Pun Moo, anyway?"

"Why, that's me!" the old man beamed.

"Pardon?" said Miroku.

"I am Pun Moo, and this," he brandished the book, "is my Fart."

Suddenly, Miroku realized that the odds of this ending well had dropped lower than his hand yesterday when Sango was…:cough: um….when _Miroku_ was…doing…important things. Yes. Very very important things. He couldn't understand why she had gotten so upset.

"Is it now?" squeaked Kagome. The reference to bodily functions was not helping at all.

-------------

"Who's behind me?" asked Carol, only it came out 'Ooos mehin me?' and no one understood a word of it.

The hand abruptly dropped from her face. Carol gasped gratefully. Air! Clean, non-palm-filtered air!

"You may call me Agent 349B." A figure stepped out of the shadows.

Cindy didn't recognize it, was too busy tormenting Jaken.

Carol knew that she (and likely Sesshoumaru as well) could never forget that face. Not after what had happened.

------------

"Kagome?" said Shippo, all of a sudden.

"Yes?" It was the first time Shippo had spoken since…the incident. Kagome bent down, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Would you…would you come with me?"

"What? To where?" And then, in hushed tones: "Do you want to talk about… _it_?"

Shippo shook his head. Amazing, he didn't even flinch at the mention of the stool incident. "No, I just want you to come with me."

"Just me?" said Kagome.

Shippo's face screwed up. His ears perked, like he was listening for something. At a length he replied. "No, everyone should come."

Confused, the whole group, Agnes included, followed Shippo through a hole in the mound, concealed with moss.

"How did you know where that was?" asked Sango, gesturing to it.

"_I_ didn't even know that was there!" Pun Moo scratched his head.

Shippo shrugged stiffly and continued walking.

--------------

"Y-you, you're the old lady from before!" Carol's mouth hung open. After all the crazy things that had been going on lately, you'd think she'd be used to stuff like this by now.

The acrobatic senior citizen's wrinkled face broke into a smile.

"We almost hit you with the car," said Carol, dumbly.

"Yes, but at my age, it takes more than a simple screaming metal death machine to take you out."

In the pink fluttery, anti-disinfectant ridden haze of Carol's mind, part of this did not ring true. Still, she hadn't yet regained the cognitive abilities to put her feelings into words. As a result, all that came out of her mouth was:

"But those men chasing you…and the explosion?"

"All part of my mission."

Cindy dropped Jaken's hat. Muttering curses, the little demon dusted it off and put it back in its rightful place. Insolent human females! One of these days…

"You're after the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom!" she accused.

"No, not cauliflower. Begonias."

"Begonias?" Carol's mouth twitched involuntarily. What next?

"They're a type of flower. Only, the government has been breeding strains of them in secret and ---" Sure, a government conspiracy. Why not? Elvis, space aliens and the little purple men in the sugar bowl should be along any moment now.

Suddenly, the blue velvet curtain wrenched open, flooding the darkened room with terminally bright mall-lighting.

"There it is!" said Madame Cristina, adjusting her blouse. Agent 349B hissed and retreated catlike into the shadows.

Two mall security men in goofy mall-security hats marched in. (Contrary to what one might believe, they were actually quite proud of the goofy hats. The hats were symbols of Authority, and a mall-cop needed all the Authority he could get.)

"No dogs in the mall," one pointed at Jaken. "Do you have a license for him?"

"Um…license?" Carol floundered.

"Tsk tsk," said the other, "No license, eh? Bet he doesn't even have a collar." The man shook his head. "Despite all my years on the force, I never get used to such atrocities. The things people are capable of!"

"Dog?" said Jaken "How dare—hmph mphmmm." In a rare moment of lucidity, Cindy covered Jaken's mouth.

"We're going to have to ask you to leave, " said the first man.

"We can, okay, I mean..." Carol was at a loss for words. Now, it is a curious fact that, when things begin to go awry, one's mind immediately begins to conjure up scenarios in which the situation could worsen. What's even crueler is that sometimes, these scenarios actually come to pass.

No sooner had Carol glanced at the prone body of Madame Zelda than a horrible thought began to form. Horrifically, no sooner had the thought formed than the nightmare started to fall into place.

The second cop bent down over Madame Zelda. "Hey, Joe, we got a live one. Out cold." He prodded the fortune teller with his club.

The first man's eyes hardened. Carol couldn't physically _see_ this happening, because he was the sort of man who wore sunglasses, even when indoors, but she knew somehow that it had. She felt it in her left ventricle, and the left ventricle was rarely wrong. (Unlike that lying aortic valve. Carol was still bitter about that one time…)

"We're gonna have to take you all in for questioning."

They led the stupefied Carol through the curtains in handcuffs. They would've cuffed the others as well, but mall security had only been issued one pair.

Carol was just lucky like that.


	16. Path to Wherever

A/N: I don't think this thing is going to go past twenty chapters. Also, though I'm sure you've already guessed if you've read this far, the "plot" is going to be a little…out there.

Special notice: Please check my profile page for information about future updates.

Chapter Sixteen: Path to Wherever

"I'm going to ask you one more time…" the first cop started, "Why did you beat a poor defenseless fortune teller into a state of abject unconsciousness?"

"I didn't!" said Carol, hanging her head. "I swear, she passed out after reading our fortune!"

"A likely story," spat the mall cop.

The second cop, the one with the sunglasses, circled Carol's chair. His standard issue boots echoed on the floor. "And I suppose that the dog just fell out of the sky without its license and registration?"

"What? No! It wasn't like that at all!" said Carol, even though for all she knew it was true.

"You animal abusers make me sick." He lowered his sunglasses, glaring.

Carol shifted uncomfortably.

-------------

Sesshoumaru was sniffing a powdered donut in the makeshift holding cell (actually the mall security break room, with the door locked.) He was completely unfazed by the situation. It was actually turning out to be sort of … fun.

Jaken had been tied and muzzled, for one thing, and the demon lord had to admit that the sight of his henchman attempting to free himself from beneath an ugly purple chair was beyond amusing.

Sesshoumaru even allowed himself a rare smirk.

Another point of interest: The girl's little friend, the insane one, had also been tied and muzzled, although she didn't fit quite so neatly beneath an ugly chair. She had attempted to bite the 'maul security' man, hence the ropes, and had refused to stop barking, hence the crude gag. (Actually a few scarves from Madame Zelda's booth tied over her mouth.)

Madame Zelda herself was spread out on a long table in the corner of the room, secured with yellow 'Do Not Cross' tape. 'Evidence', the maul security called it.

Sesshoumaru still wasn't sure about this 'maul' thing. He supposed that the maul cops would be mauling the girl in the next room, and _that _was all right, but under no circumstances would Sesshoumaru deign to be mauled by some worthless human in a strange hat. He would not lower himself so, not even for a glimpse into the future.

The maul psychic, motionless on the table, seemed to have outlived her usefulness anyway.

-------------

Naraku was puzzled.

Here was yet another mysteriously convenient bowl of pudding, this time floating on a water lily. However, he was hesitant to approach it. The heartbreak of losing the first batch had imprinted itself deeply upon what remained of his soul. In fact, he was so wounded by the loss that he had begun to use it as an excuse for his evil deeds (not, mind you, that he really needed an excuse. Sometimes he found that it was just fun to give one, though…to add a little spice to the great big bowl of pudding that he called life.)

Still, it was free pudding and Naraku was used to taking what he wanted, consequences or potential heartbreak be damned. (Sometimes literally…heh.)

Frowning, Naraku came to a decision. He made his way towards the bowl of pudding. Just as his fingers were about to close around the bowl, a shrill shriek sounded.

"We is Boulderlets!"

Naraku sighed. A villain's work is never done. (Though he rather liked the butt-kicking portion.) He turned from the pudding and made ready to cause the grammar intolerant pebbles a severe amount of pain.

Somewhere in the treetops, Kagura cursed.

-------------

"Where are we going, Shippo?" Kagome asked.

"I…don't know," came the reply. Staring straight ahead, Shippo continued to lead them into the unknown.

-------------

Naraku yawned as the Boulderlets usurped his right shoe. It might prove to be slightly inconvenient if they managed to cause any damage. He _had_ found a cobbler to repair his left shoe from the last Boulderlet 'attack', but, as he left the man's workstation, he cooked up an elaborate scheme to trick him into killing his own daughter and eating his own dog, just for the hell of it.

Needless to say, the cobbler might not be in the best mental condition to perform delicate shoe repairs, after all that. (Dimly, Naraku realized that this gave new meaning to the expression 'shot yourself in the foot'.)

Naraku supposed he would just have to find someone else.

Oh well.

-------------

"Psst." A voice sounded from the corner of the room. Involuntarily, Carol jerked her head to its source.

"Do you understand how much trouble you're in?" asked the first mall cop, apparently chagrined at her lack of attentiveness, "Do you think this is a game or something, punk? Huh?" He prodded her with a nightstick.

Carol, fearing police brutality, vigorously shook her head. "No!" She did her best to ignore the shape in the shadows.

"Do you even know what the _consequences_ are for having an unlicensed animal running free in a public area?" He pronounced the phrase 'unlicensed animal' in the same way that an ordinary person, say a doctor or a TV repairman or the president of the United States, might pronounce 'weapons of mass destruction' and 'consequences' in the same way that one might say 'prolonged torture'.

"Um…no, I guess not," said Carol, who knew little about weapons of mass destruction, but was beginning to get an idea about prolonged torture. (She'd never been allowed so much as a goldfish, let alone a dog, so unlicensed animals and the consequences for possession of such were still a mystery to her.)

"Tsk tsk," clicked the cop with the sunglasses. "Kids these days." He threw up his hands in exasperation.

"For one thing, _little girl_," clarified the first cop, "you could face a heavy fine."

"A _very_ heavy fine," added the one in sunglasses, glowering.

"How do you suppose a little girl like yourself is going to pay for a very heavy fine such as this? Hmm? That's a lot of papers to deliver on your paper route," said the first cop.

"A lot of five cent cups of watery lemonade to sell," the second cop adjusted his glasses.

"A lot of cars to wash," continued the first cop.

"A lot of cheap wallets to sew during those long hours in a Chinese sweatshop!" added the second cop, a little too enthusiastically. His partner must have sensed this, so he shot him a warning look. The second cop immediately busied himself by fiddling with his sunglasses.

"But maybe there won't be any papers to deliver or lemonade to sell…" said the first cop, frowning.

"Or wallets to sew," muttered the second cop. The first pretended not to hear him.

"Maybe Mommy and Daddy are going to pay for it," he continued. "I bet they won't be too happy about _that_, no sir!"

Carol blanched. They sure wouldn't, especially considering that, as far as Carol's mother and father knew, she didn't _have_ _a dog_! She didn't even want to imagine their reaction to a bill for an unlicensed animal….

"A life of crime doesn't sound like too much fun now, does it? Not all it's cracked up to be on MTV or the Teletubbies or whatever it is you kids like to listen to nowadays, huh? And…" the first cop paused ominously. "That's not even taking into account the fines—"

"The _very heavy_ fines!" The one with the sunglasses added.

"Yes, the _very heavy_ fines for beating a fortune teller into abject unconsciousness!"

"Oh the fines!" The second cop waved his arms as if to illustrate how horrible the fines would be.

"That could even be looked upon as a hate crime. Do you have something against the Roma?" The first cop stared at her accusingly.

"What?" panicked Carol, who liked to think of herself as a tolerant person, "Of course not!" (She had no idea if Madame Zelda was Rom or not anyway.)

"Or do you just have something against the religion she practices? Is that it?"

"Religion? I don't know anything about her religion—"

"Aha! A confession!" yelled the sunglasses-wearing cop.

"The fines you're going to rack up, little girl, tsk tsk. The heavy heavy fines!" The first cop shook his head. "If only you had _thought_ before you embarked upon the sad and debilitating road to teenaged delinquency!"

"They never think!" The second cop commiserated. (The shadow in the corner moved closer.)

"You might even be looking at…" the first cop paused in horror, "time in a juvenile facility of some sort!" (And closer)

"A drain on society!" The second added.

"Costing the taxpayers money!" The first cop sighed. "Now what do you have to say for yourself?" (Closer still)

Carol whimpered.

The voice from the corner hissed. Carol tried once more to ignore it. She was in enough trouble already.

-------------

"I don't understand what we're doing here," Miroku scratched his head. "Why won't you enlighten us, Shippo?"

Shippo soldiered on, marching towards some distant point whose exact whereabouts and function were uncertain, perhaps even to Shippo himself.

Pun Moo lagged behind, huffing under his breath about Agnes' weight. The group traveled in silence for nearly ten minutes, contemplating the situation.

"Hey, isn't that the little girl who travels with Sesshoumaru?" wondered Kagome at last. She pointed to a lone figure about twenty feet ahead of them.

Sango squinted, shading her eyes against the sun. "Yes, I think it is. What's she doing out here all by herself?"

"Does this mean that Sesshoumaru is nearby?" mused Miroku.

"Feh," grumbled Inu-Yasha, "I would've smelled it, if he was."

Shippo wandered towards Rin, trotting along beside her.

"Shippo?" Kagome said, puzzled.

"You're going there, too?" he said to Rin, without taking his eyes off of the unseen path to wherever.

"Yes," Rin replied, similarly focused on their bizarre destination. Kagome noticed that their eyes were very wide, their pupils very large, but they did not seem to be actually seeing anything. Twice Shippo tripped over stones in their path, and Rin must've sideswiped at least six trees.

"Um…" said Kagome, watching the two, unsure of what to say.

"This does not bode well," Miroku pronounced, voicing everyone's thoughts.

But it seemed that they had no choice but to follow the two children to whatever mysterious place they were seeking.

-------------

"As I suspected! Why can't you kids just –nnrg!" The first cop sank to the ground as Agent 349B stood triumphantly over his fallen body.

"Hey, what do you think you're—" the old woman gave the sunglasses-wearer a strategic clip to the jaw and he tumbled to the ground like an overripe melon.

Carol sat in her chair, mouth wide open, aghast.


	17. Admittedly Disturbing

A/N: No, I have not abandoned this story. I started it and I am going to finish, even if it takes a while. It's almost done anyways. I estimate a chapter or two more. Oh, and _everything_ will be explained. Also, after this whole thing is done, I'm going to go back and revise it. I notice I started this story close to three years ago, and a lot of it could use some editing.

* * *

Chapter 17: Admittedly Disturbing

"What now?" Carol moaned. She was slightly disturbed at how fast she was getting over her shock.

"I've come to spring you," said Agent 349B. "This is all a big mistake…we have to reverse the effects before it's too late."

"The effects of what?" Carol asked.

"Not here." Agent 349B glanced over her shoulder. "There may be cameras."

Carol wanted to say a lot of things right then, the top choice among them being 'can someone just explain what's going on here?' with 'is there some kind of gas leak around here that's making everyone I come in contact with act like strange versions of Cindy?' coming in as a close second. However, she said neither of these things, nor any one of the other questions bubbling inside her. This was because there comes a point when person can no longer take surprises. Carol's brain had simply reached its weirdness limit.

Carol decided that enough was enough. She just wasn't going to question things anymore. She followed the old lady out of the room, docilely, hoping only that everything would be resolved soon.

* * *

"Ugh, we've been walking for hours!" Kagome exclaimed. "When is this going to end?"

"Well, we can't give up now," Sango said. "We've come this far already." Still, even the demon-slayer was beginning to feel rather nervous. For one thing, they seemed to be collecting children.

They had passed by two villages already and groups of zombie-like boys and girls shambled out into their view, marching in perfect time with Shippo and Rin. Added to that, small numbers of very young demon children also attached themselves to the group, flocking together as though they possessed some kind of herding instinct.

"I admit that this is a bit…disturbing," Miroku said, "and I'm not sure how much longer we can go on. But, I think that if we follow them long enough, we'll reach the source of whatever's causing this." He gestured to the zombie-fied children, many of whom openly drooled.

"I hope so," said Kagome.

* * *

"Quickly!" Agent 349B kicked down the door of the interrogation room.

"That wasn't locked, you know," said Carol.

"No time!" She pulled Carol into the break room, where Sesshoumaru had just about polished off the powdered donuts.

Cindy barked enthusiastically, despite the gag.

Quickly, Carol and Agent 349B set to work removing Jaken and Cindy from beneath the chairs.

"Um, I think we might have found a way to get you home," Carol said to Sesshoumaru, eyeing Agent 349B.

"Yes," affirmed the old woman, "we have to get to the Malodorous Uncle Spud manufacturing plant immediately."

"Okay," said Carol. "Sure."

"What, that's it?" said Agent 349B, sawing through the door. "You don't seem too surprised."

"After all this, I think nothing can surprise me anymore," Carol said. (She was wrong about this, by the way. There were a few more surprises in store.) "And that door's probably not locked either."

The old lady shrugged and continued sawing.

"What do you think Sesshoumaru?" asked Carol. "I'm not sure that she can help, but we don't really have any other options."

Sesshoumaru nodded his assent.

* * *

Naraku was right. The Boulderlets ruined his shoe. However, he couldn't seem to find a halfway decent cobbler anywhere. It turned out that the man he'd driven insane for fun had been one of the best cobblers in the area. It looked like Naraku wouldn't be able to force a professional to perform shoe repairs and then subsequently wreak untold havoc upon said professional's life.

Oh well, that was what Kagura was for.

"Kagura," called Naraku. He rubbed his hands. "Where are you? I have a task for you to complete."

Kagura crawled surreptitiously out from behind the bushes. Naraku pretended not to notice. He would simply save that up for later. After all, what was the point of creating servants through asexual budding if you weren't going to play cruel mind games with them?

"Yes, my lord?" Kagura said, through gritted teeth.

"Here," he flung his shoe at her. "I need you to mend this. Oh, and kill Inuyasha. But first, you know, mend the shoe."

The sole waggled hopelessly in Kagura's fingers. Kagura didn't know the first thing about shoe repair. But then she remembered the copy of Pun Moo's Fart of War tucked in her sleeve. Now what had Pun Moo advised? Oh, yes.

_Pun Moo says: Use your enemy's possessions… _(and then there was a bit where he went off on a long rambling tangent about soba noodles, which Kagura chose to ignore) _…against him. _

A small slow smile spread across Kagura's face. "Oh yes, my lord," she said. "I'll fix it." _I'll fix it really good_, she thought, temporarily abandoning grammar in the face of great ideas.

* * *

_Finally_, Kagome thought, collapsing into a heap upon the ground. "So. Very. Tired," she sighed.

"Well, it's about time," muttered Inuyasha. "Okay, Shippo. Why have you brought us here?"

Shippo didn't respond. He sat motionless in the center of a field of very ugly purple and pink flowers. Rin lounged at his side, surrounded by scores of children—children that were demon, human, and everything in between. There were even a few baby animals bustling around beneath the bloated flowers' stalks.

They sat there several hours, until late into the night. One by one, Kagome, Inuyasha, Miroku, Sango, Kirara, Pun Moo and, presumably, Agnes, conked off to sleep. But the children remained awake, sitting upright in the flower patch, staring into the darkness with unnaturally bright eyes.

* * *

"Ugh, this place is filthy!" said Carol, quite forgetting her resolution not to be surprised anymore.

"Well, it's an air duct, what do you expect?" said Agent 349B.

Carl pulled her head out of the duct. "I don't know, I thought this was the place where they made this stuff," Carol whipped out a bottle of Malodorous Uncle Spud's Multipurpose High Strength Cleaning Solution and a sponge, holding them up for all to admire. "It doesn't seem right that it should be so dirty." She began scrubbing the duct furiously.

"Where did that come from?" Agent 349B asked, gesturing to the cleaning solution.

"Carol always carries it," said Cindy, hand hovering just above Jaken's hat. "Malodorous Uncle Spud's Multipurpose High Strength Cleaning Solution is basically Carol's Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom—ow! Curse you!" Cindy hissed, as Jaken smacked her with his staff.

"Insolent girl!" Jaken yelled, trying to keep what remained of his dignity.

Sesshoumaru smirked internally. Seeing Jaken and the insane one torment each other was a source of great amusement—it almost made up for having to be anywhere near that awful Malodorous Uncle Spud's Multipurpose High Strength Cleaning Solution. He was of course, too strong too show it, but the smell of the solution made his skin itch.

Agent 349B shrugged. "We have to get to the begonia lab—they're what caused all of this."

"Begonias?" said Carol, hardly looking up from her work.

"Yes, a mutated strain of begonia is a key ingredient in Malodorous Uncle Spud's Multipurpose High Strength Cleaning Solution. The government has been helping Uncle Spud breed them in secret because—"

"Yes, yes, government conspiracy, got it. Can we skip to the part where anime characters become real? Honestly, that's what I'm curious about here."

"Well, don't you even want to know _why_ the government has aligned itself with Uncle Spud?" said Agent 349B, slightly miffed.

"No," said Carol. "I want to know why a factory that produces cleaning products doesn't properly disinfect its air ducts."

"_I_ want to know why the government has aligned itself with Uncle Spud," said Cindy. She leaned closer to Agent 349B, who recoiled a bit, as if insanity was catching.

"Well, I suppose it's not that important," Agent 349B said. "I mean, who really cares about the possibility of biological warfare these days?" She laughed nervously. "Let's just crawl through the air ducts and sneak into the top secret begonia lab, okay?"

"This Sesshoumaru refuses to crawl through _anything_," the man whose name should be obvious from the dialogue pointed out.

"Why does he keep speaking in the third person?" Agent 349B asked.

Cindy and Carol gasped simultaneously.

"Shh!" Cindy put her fingers to her lips.

Jaken, standing a few feet behind Sesshoumaru, waved his arms. "The way my lord chooses to express himself is not open for commentary from pathetic and worthless humans like yourself," he said. But then, very slowly, so that Sesshoumaru wouldn't notice, he mouthed: "We don't talk about that."

"Why don't we—" Agent 349B started. Cindy covered her mouth.

"We just don't," Cindy said, and twiddled the Cauliflower of Infinite Wisdom spastically, in hopes of diverting attention away from the conversation.

* * *

The sky was still dark when Inuyasha awoke to the sound of heavy breathing. At first, he thought it was just Miroku again, thinking about 'very important things' in Sango's general vicinity, but when he looked around he found that Miroku was fast asleep.

Inuyasha stretched and leapt down from the tree branch he'd been lying on. The children still sat in the center of the flower patch, their eyes wide and glowing, their heads inclined toward the gibbous moon. Inuyasha shuddered.

"Hey, Shippo," he called.

Shippo didn't respond. Inuyasha's throat tightened.

He had to try again. "Shippo? What's all this about?"

"Shh," said Shippo, in an unnaturally high voice. "It's almost done. They're almost here."

"Who's almost here?" Inuyasha asked. "What's almost done?"

No response.

"I'm getting really tired of this. What's going on?" Inuyasha yelled.

Suddenly, a crackling noise emanated from the bushes. Inuyasha's head whipped around.


End file.
